


Kings Parted

by melblue



Series: Kings [3]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Drama, M/M, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-09
Updated: 2012-05-09
Packaged: 2017-11-05 01:33:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/400990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melblue/pseuds/melblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edmund and Caspian are now worlds apart but life goes on. Set after The Silver Chair - this is not movie related. Part 3 of the Kings series – sequel to Kings Love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ages: Peter – 19-20; Edmund – 17-18; Eustace 15-16; Lucy 15-16 - I had to work out the ages myself; Yes, I'm aware that these ages are older than the official timeline from CS Lewis, but I'm not gonna write slash about a 12 year old, so I've aged them from the first story (Kings Comfort) and then continued from that. I'll give the ages for each story as I write them.
> 
> Disclaimer: The character's belong to CS Lewis. The blame is mine.
> 
> So, this has turned out a little different from the way I first planned it. Originally it was going to be from Eustace's point of view, but that didn't feel right, and in the end I decided that this whole series is really Edmund's story. So, it's now from Edmund's point of view, even though there is a Peter/Eustace romance in the story (which makes it an interesting challenge for me!). But, now it feels right.
> 
> Oh, and thinking of a summary for this was near impossible and an absolute headache. So, yeah, summary fail.
> 
> There is no physical description of Eustace in the books so I've made him look like the way he does in the original illustrations of the book. I don't care about what he looks like in the series or the movie; this is the way he looks in my head.
> 
> So, when delving into the Silver Chair in order to write the Caspian parts (I wrote all of them first) I discovered that CS Lewis basically made some really wacky errors with the Caspian/Rilian timeline. For instance, at one point Eustace states that it is seventy years since he last saw Caspian, which adding his age from the Dawn Treader, makes Caspian about ninety in the Silver Chair, which fits with the extreme age that CS Lewis describes for him. But then the owls tell Jill and Eustace that it is ten years since the Queen died and that Rilian was 'a young knight' at the time – so let's say he was about twenty. That means that Caspian was sixty when Rilian was born and considering he married Ramandu's daughter directly after the Dawn Treader, did they really wait forty years to have a child? Crazy. So, I've adjusted things, which means that in this story, when the Queen dies and Rilian disappears, Caspian is in his early forties. (And let's just assume that the nasty Green Witch put Rilian in a deep freeze for oh, about forty odd years, shall we?)

 

> _Edmund, you have been gone now for a few hours and I sit here and I cannot turn the ship around and return to Narnia. It is not that I think that you will come back, or that I think I can follow you, it is that I am so angry that I am frozen. I cannot do anything._
> 
> _The choice was given to us, but this is not my choice. As much as I understand the reason you have chosen as you have, still I cannot fully accept it because it is not the choice I would have made._
> 
> _I know that you think you are doing what is right, for us, and for Narnia, but I think you are wrong. You want me to go back, marry, and father a child for Narnia, but you have forgotten that in this, I do have a choice._
> 
> _And so I tell you, Edmund, that I will not do it._

* * *

**1st meeting of the Seven Friends of Narnia**

* * *

"It was amazing," said Jill Pole the excitement in her voice reflected in her face. "They ran away like terrified rats. Then I went upstairs to get changed, and I suppose Caspian went back." She glanced at Eustace beside her. "Did he?"

Edmund had listened to the story that Jill and Eustace had told in silence, and without lifting his gaze from the table. It was easier that way, to ignore the rapid beating of his heart, and pretend that it was just a story and not something that had actually happened. But at this question, he could not resist looking up for a moment to look at Eustace. The other boy's eyes met his instantly and Edmund somehow knew that Eustace had been watching him throughout the entire telling of the tale.

"Yes, of course," Eustace finally said, softly, and Edmund closed his eyes for a moment, and then turned away, only to find Peter's eyes upon him. Edmund gave him a brief smile and then returned to his contemplation of Aunt Polly's fine damask tablecloth.

"Oh, I'm so glad that we could all hear about it together." It was Lucy's voice and Edmund could clearly hear the joy in it.

"Yes," Jill replied. "It was a wonderful idea of Aunt Polly's and the Professor to set up the Seven Friends of Narnia. It's so good to be able to tell people who'll believe. I feel like I've been holding a bomb inside for the last six weeks and I've just wanted to explode with it all, and now it's finally out."

There was laughter around the table at this remark and then Peter spoke, his voice low, but everyone fell silent as people always did at the sound of Peter's voice.

"Tell me," he said, "how old was King Caspian when you saw him in Aslan's country?"

Edmund shifted uncomfortably in his chair but Peter could not possibly have known that this was exactly what Edmund most wanted to hear about. It was simply coincidence that his brother had asked the question that Edmund would have asked himself if he was capable of speech.

"I'd say, twenty-two, twenty-three?" It was Eustace who replied. "It was hard to say for certain. I think he was older than he was when we were all on the Dawn Treader, but not by much."

There was another moment of silence after this and Edmund could feel that now Lucy was watching him as well and he just knew what he would see in her eyes if he looked up, so he didn't. He didn't want to see it.

"I think it's time for some tea," Aunt Polly finally said, and she rose from her chair. "I'll serve it in the parlour."

"I'll help you," said Lucy, and Edmund took a quick breath of relief as they both left the room.

The others rose from the dining table where they had eaten the delicious meal that Aunt Polly had prepared, and slowly made their way to the door.

Eustace crowded close to Edmund and then gripped his arm, holding him back. Edmund, who had grown slightly taller in the year that had passed since they had all been in Narnia together, glanced down at him.

"What is it?" he asked softly.

"Stay," murmured Eustace. "I need to talk to you."

Edmund quickly shook his head, but Eustace too had changed in the last year and he retained his firm grip on Edmund's arm. He had a quietly determined look on his face that Edmund had never seen on him before, and he had a feeling that it wouldn't be as easy to divert Eustace as it might have been in the past.

"Why?" Edmund asked, bluntly.

Eustace frowned. "Isn't it obvious?" he answered. "I've got a message for you."

Something like a jolt of fear went through Edmund's heart and he quickly took a deep breath. In the last year he'd slowly accepted that his future would probably be a lonely one for even if he could let go of the feelings he had for Caspian, this was England, not Narnia, and Edmund knew that he would never marry. But with that acceptance had come a sort of numb tolerance of his life, and Edmund felt that a message from Caspian could only crack the walls he'd built up, and send him back into the mire of pain and confusion he'd experienced in those first days back in England after leaving Caspian.

"Look, Eustace," he said, quietly. "I don't really need or want a message from Caspian."

"Why not, Edmund?"

It was Peter's voice, and Edmund spun around with a sinking heart. He'd had no idea that Peter was still in the room, standing quietly behind them, and by the sudden tension he could feel in Eustace, Edmund could tell that he'd had no idea either.

Both Edmund and Eustace were silent and Peter raised an eyebrow at them.

"If Caspian took the time and effort to send you a message, I don't see why you wouldn't want to hear it, Edmund," he said.

Edmund could feel the heat in his face and a quick glance at Eustace showed that he was in a similar condition. Peter smiled at them.

"Of course, the question is, why would Caspian send you, in particular, a message," he said. "You were different when you got back from Narnia last time, Edmund. At first I thought that was hardly surprising, you were there for some time and Lucy was different too. You'd both grown up a lot. But with you, it was more than that. It was like a great weight had been lifted from you but at the same time, something else wasn't quite right. And then I realised what it was. You were grieving. And I wondered what it was that you could be grieving for. I waited for you to tell me, but when you didn't, I asked Lucy."

At Edmund's startled gasp, Peter smiled again. "Ah, don't worry, Edmund," he continued. "She didn't give away your secret, but the way she acted confirmed that there _was_ some sort of secret."

"Really, Peter," Edmund finally found his voice, and he knew that it sounded resentful. "Perhaps instead of engineering you should consider detective work as a career."

Peter laughed. "Perhaps, not," he said, and his eyes slid to Eustace. "Because I didn't even think to ask Eustace."

Edmund felt Eustace shift uncomfortably beside him, but he remained silent, and Edmund was surprised, for he knew that the Eustace of a year ago would definitely have burst into speech.

"You know, Peter, it's jolly well none of-" Edmund began but Peter interrupted him.

"None of my business," he said. "I do know, Edmund, but you're my brother and I love you. You've suffered and it's been hard to stand by and watch that without knowing why."

And this was the problem with Peter, Edmund thought, he could always find a way to completely disarm you.

"Of course, I've figured it out now," Peter continued. "Why didn't you tell me you had been in a relationship with Caspian? Surely with what you know of me from when we were in Narnia, you could not have thought that I would disapprove?"

Edmund heard Eustace's slight gasp and glanced at him, noting his flushed face and lowered eyes, with some confusion. Eustace had always seemed to accept Edmund's relationship with Caspian so easily, but with Peter's admission, Edmund now wondered if perhaps that acceptance hadn't been as easy for Eustace as he'd thought.

"Edmund?"

Peter's soft query brought Edmund's attention away from Eustace and he took a deep breath.

"I wasn't sure how you would feel about it," he admitted, softly. "You see, I saw you together after the Battle of Beruna, and later Caspian told me about it. I knew how he felt, but I didn't know how you felt."

Peter was silent for a moment, his face expressionless. "I see," he said, finally. "I'm sure that Caspian would have told you that nothing really happened that night. My… memories of it are fond, but that is all."

A soft murmur came from Eustace, and when Edmund glanced at him again, he was leaning against the table, still staring at the floor. Edmund frowned.

"I say, are you all right?" he asked.

Eustace looked up with a stricken look in his eyes that was gone so fast that Edmund wondered if he had really seen it.

"I'm fine," he said, sounding slightly breathless. "Really."

"Perhaps you should give Edmund the message," Peter said softly, and when Edmund looked at him, he saw that Peter had moved closer to them. "And then we can join the others for tea."

"No," Edmund said quickly. "I don't want to hear it."

"But why not, Edmund?" Peter asked, frowning. "I don't understand that."

"Because he's dead," Edmund burst out, no longer able to contain himself, as his heart almost thumped out of his chest. "And so what is the point? He's dead and I'm alive. End of story."

"What makes you think he's dead?"

Eustace sounded astonished and Edmund glared at him with his own astonishment.

"Because he died, Eustace," he said, rather snidely, he had to admit," surely you remember that. You were there, after all."

Eustace seemed to have lost whatever embarrassment had ailed him earlier and he was now looking at Edmund with a mixture of anger and confusion.

"And I assure you, Edmund," he said, "that Caspian was not dead when I left him."

Edmund ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Look Eustace," he said. "I know you mean well, but Caspian died, in Narnia. Even if I could ever go back, his life in Narnia is over."

"But that doesn't mean he's dead," Eustace said earnestly, gripping Edmund's arm. "I've been thinking, you know, about what the Professor told us about the first time he and Aunt Polly went to Narnia. About the Wood between the Worlds. And I thought, what if Aslan's country is sort of like that. A place outside of everything, but from where you can get anywhere. But you don't have to be dead to be there. I mean, Aunt Polly and the Professor weren't dead when they went there, so why would Caspian be dead now that he's there? Oh, I wish I could explain what I mean, properly," and he shook his head in frustration.

"No," Peter said, thoughtfully. "I think I understand you, Eustace. It's just another way of travelling between worlds. Like the wardrobe."

"But," Edmund said incredulously, "he got old. He died."

"Don't you see, Edmund?" Eustace asked. "That was just a way of explaining his absence. With us, when we go to Narnia, it's always about time. No time passes here while we're away so no explanation for our absence is needed. With Narnia, it's different, and it was time for Narnia to progress, for a new King to be crowned. So, Caspian got old, and when the right time came, when Rilian was back, Caspian was moved between the worlds and back to his proper age."

Edmund couldn't help feeling that this all might just be wishful thinking on Eustace's part, but there was no denying that Caspian had been alive and youthful when Eustace had left him, and with Aslan and Narnia, anything was possible.

In the end, he shrugged his shoulders and sighed. "All right then," he said and then took a deep breath. "You'd best tell me this message."

"Do you want me to leave?" Peter asked.

Edmund shook his head. "No, it's fine," he said. And maybe, he thought, it would be a relief to talk about all of this with Peter, some time in the future.

Eustace was glancing between them and Edmund noticed that he was suddenly looking flushed and embarrassed again.

"It wasn't actually a verbal message," he finally said. "He, ah, gave me a couple of things to give you. This is the first." He moved closer to Edmund with his hand held out. Gold flashed and Edmund saw that a ring rested on his open palm. He knew that ring, had seen it many times until eventually he'd ceased to notice it, simply accepting it as a part of Caspian. Gingerly he reached out and took it, swallowing heavily as he saw once more the curving C wrapped around a rampant lion. Caspian's signet ring.

For a moment his vision wavered and he blinked quickly against the sting of tears. His hand clenched into a fist around the ring and then he shoved it deep into his pocket.

"What else?" he whispered.

"Just this," Eustace said, and there was a faint tremor in his voice. Edmund watched him as he drew a folded packet of parchment out of his pocket and offered it with a shy smile.

Edmund took it with a trembling hand and wondered if he would ever have the courage to read it.

There was a long moment of silence and then Peter cleared his throat. "The others will be wondering about us," he said. "We should go and have tea, and then I'd better drive Jill and Eustace back to school. It's getting late."

Edmund nodded, put the parchment into his pocket to join Caspian's ring, and followed Peter and Eustace out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

> _It's been three days now, Edmund, and this morning I woke up and somehow I knew that you were gone beyond my reach._
> 
> _Yesterday, I turned the ship around. Lord Drinian informed me that the men were growing restless and anxious, and he thinks that we should return to Ramandu's Island. He wants to do some refitting work on the Dawn Treader, and the island is a good place to wait out the winter weather before beginning the return journey. We certainly won't have to worry about finding or preparing food. So, there's that._
> 
> _And it makes no difference to me. I don't care._
> 
> _I still don't understand how you could do this to us, Edmund. Oh, I understand why, but not how. I could never have left you the way you have left me here._
> 
> _Alone._

* * *

**2nd meeting of the Seven Friends of Narnia**

* * *

Edmund folded the pieces of parchment carefully, placed them in his coat pocket and gazed with unseeing eyes at the beauty of Aunt Polly's garden.

It had been a few weeks since he'd first received Caspian's message from Eustace and he'd yet to read past the second page. He just couldn't do it. Almost as soon as he'd seen Caspian's handwriting, his safe numbness had deserted him, and all the agony of the separation had flooded back, intensified by the obvious pain and anger in Caspian's writing.

Edmund shivered slightly, both from the cooling air of the Autumn afternoon, and from - he hated to admit it - fear. What would he find in the rest of the parchment pages and how would it change him? Already he was beginning to doubt himself.

It was at times like these that Edmund found himself desperately missing Susan. Once, not so long ago, he would have been able to talk to her about this. But his sister, Queen Susan of Narnia, had disappeared forever, leaving another aching wound in Edmund's heart, for he had always been the closest to her, and her desertion of their belief in Narnia had been the most painful for him.

"Hello, Ed."

Edmund startled slightly at the sound of Peter's voice and quickly forced his face into a smile of welcome before turning to look at him. Peter returned the smile and then sat on the garden seat beside Edmund.

"So, you're finally here," Edmund said.

"Yes," Peter replied with a laugh. "Lucky you, getting the extra day but if you rub it in too much I won't drive you back to Cambridge tomorrow."

"Don't think I'd mind that," Edmund said. "Exams start next week."

Peter moaned in sympathy.

"Did you collect Jill and Eustace?" Edmund asked. "Where are they?"

"Jill and Lucy are helping Aunt Polly with some decorations in the dining room. Eustace did not look pleased."

"Oh?"

"Yes," Peter continued, sounding amused. "He mumbled something about how as he had turned sixteen _last_ week they shouldn't be inflicting a birthday celebration on him _this_ week. Tried to make them believe it was bad luck, but of course it didn't work so he went off somewhere in a huff."

Edmund joined Peter in his laughter and then they fell into a comfortable silence, which was nice, Edmund thought, for even though they were both at Cambridge they hadn't seen each other much lately. They were both in separate colleges and Edmund had been… distracted.

"How have you been, Edmund?" Peter suddenly asked, and Edmund could tell by the tone of his voice that he'd been thinking the same thing.

"Oh," Edmund shrugged. "You know, swatting hard."

Peter hummed in agreement and continued to gaze at Edmund and Edmund suddenly found himself stammering a confession.

"I tried to read… the letter… well, it's more sort of like diary entries, I think, but anyway I tried to read it," he said, and hoped that Peter wouldn't comment on his sudden confused outburst.

But, of course, Peter didn't and Edmund took a deep breath and continued more calmly.

"I haven't been able to get past the second page," he said quietly. "It's too painful. I can see how angry he is, and I've… I'd caused him so much pain. When I left, it all happened so quickly, Peter, and we never really got the chance to talk about it properly. There was too much left unsaid. It feels like we were just suddenly torn apart and when I look back I can see so clearly, that it was me that did that. And now, seeing the result in those pages, I can't help but think… or wonder… or…" he faltered to a halt, slightly amazed that he'd got as far as he had.

"You are wondering if you did the right thing," Peter said, in a low voice, and Edmund nodded.

"Yes," Edmund said. "I never really had any doubts before, even though it was the hardest thing I ever did. It just felt like the right thing to do. But, Peter, it was the right thing to do for _me_. I needed to make that sacrifice for Aslan and now I think that I used Caspian as that sacrifice, and I know he feels that way too. You know, when I was leaving, he said that I didn't love him enough to stay. _I_ made him feel that way, and that is a horrible thing to do to anyone. But Lucy said that we would both have to love Narnia more, and I really felt that was what I was doing, but maybe it wasn't, maybe I just didn't love him enough, and, oh, I'm sorry, I'm just so confused. And there is _nothing_ I can do about it, anyway."

Edmund clenched his fists in frustration and jumped slightly when Peter's heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

"Be still, Edmund," he said, and in his voice was the echo of the King he had been and the promise of the man he was becoming, and it made Edmund feel calmer than he had for days.

Edmund nodded, and the hand on his shoulder tightened.

"You know I can't tell you whether you did the right thing or not," said Peter. "All I can tell you is that I am proud of you for the decision you made. Lucy said that you should love Narnia more, and I really do think that you did that, Edmund, regardless of whether you felt you owed Aslan some sort of sacrifice; because I know that if it hadn't been love for Narnia that motivated you, you would never have done it. Loving Narnia more doesn't mean that you didn't love Caspian enough and if Caspian is a true King of Narnia then, in the end, he too will love Narnia more. And Edmund," Peter continued, his voice filling with certainty, "when I fought to put Caspian on the throne I believed he was a true King of Narnia, and I still believe that now."

Edmund had listened to Peter with grateful wonder for the trust that Peter was showing in him, and the faith that he had in Caspian, and when his brother fell silent, Edmund wiped a hand over his suddenly moist cheeks.

"I believe it too," he finally managed to say, and Peter smiled at him.

"Then," Peter said. "I think that all will be well. And, you know, I think that Caspian sent you this message for a reason and I don't think it was to upset you. I suspect that when you get to the end of the message you will understand what that reason might be."

"Yes," Edmund agreed with a sigh. "But I don't think I can get to the end yet."

Peter squeezed Edmund's shoulder again, and they both sat in companionable silence until Lucy called them indoors.

* * *

They were all staying overnight at Aunt Polly's so they lingered late over dinner. Edmund had been quiet at first, and Eustace, too, had seemed withdrawn, but Peter had seemed determined to amuse and he had drawn Lucy into tales of happy moments and thrilling adventures from their time as Kings and Queens, stories that were now legends in Narnia, and the meal had taken on the atmosphere reminiscent of feasts they had held in Cair Paravel.

The Professor had been intensely interested and even started copying some of the tales down, plying Peter, Edmund and Lucy with questions until Aunt Polly had suddenly realised the time and sent them all to bed.

But Edmund, not for the first time in the last couple of weeks, found himself unable to sleep and for once it wasn't his own problems that kept him awake. Yes, at first his mind had dwelt on the conversation he'd had in the garden with Peter, and the fact that Peter had eased his mind in some ways, but eventually he found himself thinking about the dinner party for he had seen something there that had concerned him.

Eustace had been far too quiet, and Edmund had a suspicion that it wasn't just his annoyance over the birthday celebration that had caused it, because Eustace had actually seemed quite touched when they had sung around the birthday cake. Edmund had a feeling that Eustace's parents, with all their strange ideas, had probably never done such a thing for their son.

No, Eustace had been quiet for other reasons, and Edmund had an idea that those reasons might involve Peter, for the one time that Eustace had spoken, it had been a blushing, stammering reply to something that Peter had said to him.

Edmund, who had been sitting next to Eustace, had then heard him mumble something that sounded like 'can't even talk to him properly' and Edmund had felt certain that Eustace was talking about Peter.

Giving up on sleep, Edmund got out of bed and padded down the stairs to the kitchen, in search of a glass of water, but as he wandered by the open parlour door he was startled by the sight, in the dim firelight, of a figure standing by the window.

"Who's there?"

The figure turned at the sound of Edmund's hissing whisper and Edmund was relieved to see that it was Eustace.

"Oh, I say, I was just thinking about you," he said, walking into the room and closing the door behind him. "Couldn't you sleep either?"

Eustace shook his head. "No," he said quietly. "Why were you thinking about me?"

And that was the Eustace he knew, Edmund thought fondly, direct and always getting straight to the point.

"Well," Edmund said doubtfully, wondering if he should voice the suspicions that he was having about Eustace. "You just seemed quiet tonight, that's all, and I was wondering if you were all right."

"I'm fine," Eustace said quickly, and Edmund raised an eyebrow and then realised that in the dim light, Eustace probably couldn't see it.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I don't know," Eustace finally said, after a long moment of silence. "I think it's just turning sixteen, you know? I mean, I was thinking about when we were on the Dawn Treader, and I'm now the age you were then. The age you were when you…" he trailed off, and when Edmund moved closer he could see that Eustace looked very uncomfortable.

"The age I was when I fell in love with Caspian," he said. "Is that what you were thinking about?"

"Yes. Sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's all right, Eustace," Edmund said. "I don't mind talking about it." And he was slightly startled to realise that it was true.

"Does it get any easier?" Eustace asked and Edmund blinked in confusion.

"What?"

"Wanting something you can't have. Does it get any easier?"

Edmund frowned. The conversation had almost a haphazard, frantic feeling to it and he had a feeling that Eustace had worked himself into a bit of a state.

"I don't know," Edmund said gently. "All I can say is that time passes and it's not without an effect. But is there something you think you can't have, Eustace?"

"I suppose everybody has something they want," Eustace answered evasively and Edmund almost smiled.

"Or someone," he said, and waited.

He didn't have to wait for long, for Eustace suddenly let out an explosive sigh and flung himself into an armchair. He leant forward, elbows on knees and rested his head in his hands. Edmund took a seat on another chair and watched him with concern.

"Don't," Eustace finally said, his voice muffled by his arms. "Don't talk about it and make it real."

Edmund sighed in sympathy. "Whatever you are feeling is real, Eustace, whether we talk about it or not. But we won't talk about it if you don't want to."

Eustace didn't answer or move and Edmund studied him carefully. Eustace had changed a fair bit since their time on the Dawn Treader and not just mentally and emotionally. He was taller and leaner, he'd lost the slight layer of baby fat that he'd had even six months ago. His hair had darkened to black and that combined with his green eyes gave him a striking appearance, an appearance that Edmund was certain that Peter had noticed.

"Are you sure this is something you can't have?" Edmund asked, and Eustace finally looked up. Edmund could see that his eyes were shining but his cheeks were dry.

"I'm Scrubb, the annoying little beast, remember? And he's…" he broke off, and looked away.

"Well, now you're just being foolish," Edmund said, and he ignored Eustace's reproachful look. "You haven't been Scrubb for years now. You're one of the great Lords of Narnia, Eustace. Don't you realise that the last time you were there you saved Narnia? Narnia is always in danger without it's true King. Rilian had to be found and you and Jill did that."

"And maybe if we were all in Narnia…" Eustace began, and then he shook his head and Edmund suspected he was blushing. "You know when I first started feeling this way, it was almost bearable. Because I thought that he would never consider that sort of relationship. But then, at the last meeting I found out that actually he'd already had those sort of experiences, and I couldn't help it, I started to hope."

"Why don't you talk to him about it?" Edmund asked softly, and Eustace jolted slightly as if he'd forgotten that Edmund was there.

"Oh, I could never do that," Eustace said quickly. "I can barely speak to him without acting like an idiot, and I couldn't bear it if he patted me on the head and told me I was too young or something. Besides this isn't Narnia, Edmund, and you know what happens to boys like us here."

"Do you remember the advice you gave me on the Dawn Treader when you saw me with Caspian?" Edmund asked.

"Yes, but I was only fourteen then," Eustace said. "And to be honest, I really had no idea what I was talking about."

Edmund laughed and Eustace looked startled.

"Oh, I think you knew more than you thought you did," Edmund said, rising to his feet and heading to the door. "You really helped me that night, Eustace, and I really think that you should consider following that advice yourself. Don't let your own fears stop you from taking the chance of finding some happiness, because I can tell you from experience, it will only make you miserable and I've always been grateful to you for making me see that." He held out his hand. "Now, come on, I really do think we should try to get some sleep."

Eustace rose slowly to his feet and took Edmund's hand and they walked up the stairs together. When they got to the hallway they parted ways but Eustace's soft voice reached Edmund's ears just before he entered his room.

"Thanks, Edmund."

* * *

The next morning at breakfast Eustace was still quiet but he also seemed thoughtful and Edmund wasn't surprised when he disappeared into the garden after the meal had finished. Now that he knew for sure how Eustace felt about Peter, Edmund found himself watching his brother closely, and so he saw when Peter's eyes followed Eustace to the door.

But there was no clue in Peter's expression and Edmund sighed softly. Still it was a sort of relief to lose himself in the distraction of someone else's problems, even if it was only for a little while, for Edmund was ever aware of the parchment sitting in his suitcase upstairs.

Immediately after lunch, Edmund, Eustace and Jill piled into Peter's old car and waved to the Professor, Aunt Polly and Lucy, as they rattled and bounced along the gravel driveway. One of the reasons Aunt Polly's house had been chosen for their meetings, besides its size, was its closeness to Jill and Eustace's school, and the half hour drive passed quickly.

Even so, Jill still fell asleep in the back, leaning on Eustace who was reading a book. Edmund, himself, dozed for a while, but his thoughts were still full of the conversations he'd had and as he glanced at Peter, he realised that his brother had been an important part of both of them.

"Peter," he said, after a while. "I meant to thank you for what you said to me yesterday. About being proud of me. That really meant a lot to me, so thank you."

Peter looked at him for a moment and Edmund noticed, with some surprise, that he was blushing slightly.

"Oh, Ed," he said. "Thanks but I'm just your boring older brother after all."

Edmund sat up straighter in the car seat. "No," he said, seriously. "That's the thing. You're not just my older brother. You're my High King, and I haven't forgotten that. It means a lot to me."

Peter's blush deepened but he grinned at Edmund and winked, and Edmund laughed. It was true, he thought, that something about Peter always reassured him, made him feel better, and safer.

A few moments later they pulled in at the gates of the school and everyone got out of the car. Jill hugged them both, took her suitcase from Peter, and quickly disappeared, but Eustace lingered and Edmund placed his suitcase on the ground and drifted back towards the front of the car.

But still, he couldn't stop himself from watching, and his eyes widened in surprise when he saw Eustace take Peter's hand and bow formally.

"You're my High King as well," he said, pressed a quick kiss onto Peter's hand and a moment later he was gone.

Edmund was still marvelling at Eustace's sudden bravery when Peter finally turned to him with an amazed look. They stared at each other for a moment and then they both climbed back into the car. Finally Edmund turned to Peter.

"Don't say anything," Peter said.

Edmund ignored him. "I think he's falling for you," he said quietly.

"It's just a bit of hero worship," Peter said, frowning slightly. He started the car and reversed through the gates.

"I think it might be more than that," Edmund eventually said, and Peter did not reply.


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

**3rd Meeting of the Seven Friends of Narnia**

* * *

"Where's Jill?" Peter asked as Eustace climbed into the back of the car, and Edmund was surprised for this was the first time that Peter had spoken for quite a while.

They had left Cambridge just after breakfast and as they had come closer to Jill and Eustace's school, Edmund had sensed the tension rising in his brother, until finally they had both fallen silent.

"She has a cold," Eustace replied. "She's in the infirmary and she's jolly upset that she's missing half-term and the meeting, I can tell you. She almost chewed my ear off complaining about it."

Edmund joined Eustace in laughter but Peter merely frowned and said, "I see." A moment later he was reversing quickly out of the gates and back onto the main road. Eustace gave Edmund a questioning look and Edmund shrugged. He had his suspicions about Peter's strange mood but he wasn't going to interfere. At least not yet.

Half an hour later they pulled into Aunt Polly's impressive drive. As soon as the car was parked Peter was out of it and he quickly disappeared into the house, leaving Edmund to bring in their luggage.

"Is he all right?" Eustace asked, as he helped Edmund with the cases. "Oh, are you staying?"

"For a week," Edmund answered, ignoring Eustace's first question. "I've got a lot of work to do, and I think Peter's got something as well, so Aunt Polly offered us some peace and quiet for the short vac. Don't worry, Peter will drive you back before curfew tonight."

"Oh," said Eustace in a strangled voice and Edmund glanced at him. Eustace had gone pale but he avoided Edmund's eyes, picked up a case and went inside the house quickly.

Edmund sighed, and followed him.

* * *

The dinner and meeting that night was a strained affair. Peter was still out of sorts, Eustace was the quietest he'd ever been and barely lifted his eyes from the table, and Lucy looked confused. It fell to Edmund to keep the conversation going, a task he hardly felt fit for, but fortunately Lucy pulled herself together and eventually they managed to drag Peter into a lengthy discussion of the early legends of Narnia with the Professor, who had decided to privately record as many as possible.

Only Aunt Polly seemed truly relaxed and she often seemed to be watching all of them with a gleam of amusement in her eyes that made Edmund feel slightly uncomfortable. He could only imagine what it was doing to Peter and Eustace.

It was as they were leaving the dining room to go to the parlour that Peter pulled Edmund aside.

"I have to take Eustace back to school soon," he said in a tense voice. "Want to come for a drive?"

Edmund was silent for a moment, wondering how he should answer. Should he put Peter in a situation where he had to deal with Eustace's feelings for him, or would it be better to act as a chaperone? Particularly when he wasn't certain of how Peter felt about the situation, although he certainly didn't seem happy about it, that was for sure.

But before he could answer, Aunt Polly had swooped on them, with Lucy in tow, and demanded that Edmund help them with ideas for some sort of village fete day.

"Lucy has to leave tomorrow," Aunt Polly said, as Edmund gazed at her in horrified amazement. "And I wanted to get ideas from the both of you together. Three heads are better than one or, indeed, two."

"But… I don't know anything about fetes," Edmund objected whilst Peter sighed heavily beside him. "Really, nothing at all."

"Come now, I'm sure you had plenty of experience with feast days in Narnia," Aunt Polly said, firmly.

"Yes, but they were sort of medieval," Edmund said, as they followed her into the parlour. "Is it a medieval fete?"

"There," Aunt Polly said, beaming at him. "What a wonderful idea. You see, you've been a great help already," she paused and looked around the room, and then frowned at Eustace. "Oh, Eustace dear, you seem as if you're half asleep. I hope you aren't coming down with Jill's cold. Peter, I really think you should take him back to school immediately. The night's are getting very cold and I know that rattling heap you call a car doesn't have a heater."

Peter looked furious, and for a moment it looked like he was going to say something, but then he simply turned and left the room quickly with Eustace trailing despondently behind him.

Aunt Polly followed them, saying something about getting them a blanket, and Edmund took his seat beside Lucy with a troubled sigh.

Still, he had to admit he was relieved at not having to spend the next half hour in what he was sure was going to be the very tense atmosphere of Peter's car.

* * *

Peter had not yet returned when the others decided to turn in for the night and Edmund found that he did not want to go to his own room without having some idea of what might have happened. So, he collected a book from Aunt Polly's library and settled in front of the fire to wait.

His concern grew as more time, too much really, passed and still Peter was not back. Eventually he took to pacing the floor, with occasional glances out of the window and he sighed with relief when, a good two hours after Peter and Eustace had left, he finally saw headlights turning into the drive.

A few moments later Peter strode past the parlour door and Edmund called his name softly. His brother paused for a moment and then turned into the room, his face pale and set.

Edmund gave him a questioning look.

"You should have come with me," Peter finally said.

Edmund shrugged. "You couldn't have put it off forever," he said. "What happened?"

"What do you think happened?" Peter bit out, frowning. "We got back to the school and he thought I was angry with him. I… tried to explain things, but he got upset, and then I completely lost my head and… I kissed him."

"Oh," Edmund gasped. Somehow, from the way Peter had been acting all day, this was the last thing he'd expected to hear. "Ah, how exactly?"

Peter glared at Edmund for a moment, and then the anger went out of his eyes and he sighed.

"It was heated," he said, shrugging out of his coat. "I think I may have overwhelmed him at first, but he recovered and then it went on for a while - for far too long before I finally had the sense to stop it."

"But… you _are_ attracted to him?" Edmund asked.

"Of course I'm attracted to him, Edmund," Peter said, his voice full of frustration. "He's bloody gorgeous. Not to mention clever, funny and eager. But that doesn't make it right. He's still in school."

"What?" Edmund couldn't keep the incredulity out of his voice. "Good lord, you're not going to say he's 'too young' are you? Do you think I was too young for Caspian? Or that Prince Corin was too young, when I _know_ that he was younger than Eustace is now when you-"

"Stop right there, Edmund," Peter said firmly. "That was Narnia and you know it was different. But this isn't Narnia and I can't lead Eustace into a way of life that would condemn him as a criminal."

"What utter rot," Edmund spluttered, a strange anger growing inside him. "In England yes, and you know how wrong the law about this is. But all you would have to do is leave England for somewhere else where it isn't criminal. By Jove, you could have been with him in Poland before he turned sixteen and it would have been legal."

"So, what are you suggesting Edmund? That I make him give up everything, his school, his family, his future here in England, to live out our lives in another world. You think I should ask of him, what Caspian asked of you, and then if he can't do it, let him live with the guilt? I'd rather not ask him at all."

Edmund felt the blood drain from his face even as he struggled for breath. He stared at Peter in horror and then suddenly he was moving, racing for the door. But Peter reached him first and pulled him back into the room, holding him by the arm.

"I'm so sorry, Edmund," he said quietly. "I know, I really do, please believe me, that it's not the same as it was with you and Caspian. You had so much more to consider."

"I want you to know, Peter," Edmund said, after finally catching his breath. "I want you to know that as much as I love my family, I would have left you all. I would have stayed in a heartbeat, and the _only_ reason I didn't is because I felt that it was not the right thing to do for Narnia."

"I know that, Edmund," Peter said. "I've known it every day since you came back, even before I knew what had happened."

"Then maybe you should consider that Eustace has the right to make the same choice."

Peter sighed, a lost and dejected sound that made the remaining heat of anger in Edmund fade away.

"I said it's not the same thing, Edmund," he said. "Even as I held him, I could sense the fear in Eustace, even if he wasn't fully aware of it himself. He's never spent the sort of time in Narnia that we have, Edmund. He's a product of this world, of its rules and its prejudices, and I don't think he's ready to face what a relationship like this would mean, in this world."

Edmund nodded slowly, remembering what Eustace had said a few weeks ago about what could happen to 'boys like them' in England.

"Aside from that," Peter continued. "You know that as Kings we expected our subjects to obey the laws we made. And you know, that there were some who didn't always agree with those laws, but still we expected them to honour them or they would be held accountable."

"We didn't make such unjust laws," Edmund said quickly, knowing exactly what Peter was trying to say.

"I know," said Peter with a sigh. "But how can we, in good conscience, having expected obedience to our laws in our kingdom then not obey the laws of the land in which we are now subject? I'm not saying that we can't try to change them, but until they are changed, shouldn't we obey them?"

Edmund frowned, because this was just like Peter, to be so bloody noble about something so… so unfair. Still, he realised, it had always been that way, almost as if it had been Peter's job; just as it had been Edmund's job to find the loopholes, the way to work around something to get what they wanted, it had then been Peter's job to decide if it was the right thing to do.

So, maybe that could work this time as well, Edmund thought. Maybe all Edmund had to do was find the loophole that would let Peter and Eustace be together.

"What did you say to him?" Edmund finally asked, thoughtfully.

"I told him that it couldn't happen again," Peter said, and he sounded bleak.

"And what did he say?"

"He didn't say anything. He just sat there for a moment and then he got out of the car and ran up the drive." Peter sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "By Jove, I'm tired."

"And you really think you can avoid it happening again?" Edmund asked as he followed Peter from the room.

"I'll have to," Peter said.

They reached the top of the stairs and looked at each other.

"Even if it means rejecting him when you really want him? You'd hurt him like that?"

"I won't let it get that far again," Peter said.

"I don't think it will be as easy as you think," Edmund warned, as he opened his door.

Peter sighed again. "I didn't say I thought it would be easy."

* * *

Edmund sat in his bed, in the dim lamplight, and gazed at his suitcase on the floor near the door. Inside was the parchment that he'd been avoiding reading more of for over a month. And now he knew the reason that he'd been avoiding it. Peter probably didn't know it, but he'd made it so clear in Edmund's head and heart that he couldn't avoid the truth no matter how much he might want to.

It was guilt, pure and simple. Just guilt. He'd seen Caspian's pain on those pages and fled from facing it. And really, he decided as he got out of bed and rummaged in the suitcase, that wasn't fair, he owed Caspian more than that. He owed Caspian an acknowledgement of the pain he had caused him.

Once back in bed, Edmund took a deep breath and opened the parchment.

> _It has been five weeks but finally the Dawn Treader has left Ramandu's Island. We have a passenger. I do not know what prompted her decision but Ramandu's daughter expressed a desire to see Narnia. I cannot deny her; she has lived a lonely life so far on this Island. She is close to her father but he is often preoccupied, I do not know with what, but stars, even resting ones, lead strange lives._
> 
> _I have given her my cabin and I find myself quartered in the cabin that I once shared with you, Edmund. I cannot say that the memories do not haunt me, and they are the most intense at night._
> 
> _I shared this bunk with you and I lay awake and imagine that I can feel your skin against mine. It is like a burning ache all over my body, but worst in my heart, this longing to feel you again, to hold you again. And more._
> 
> _I want to lose myself in you again, to feel you all around me, Edmund. Or shall I be more blunt? You always liked that, didn't you?_
> 
> _Do you know how I yearn to feel you under me, to take you again and be inside you? Do you feel the same need? Do you want me to fuck you as much as I long to fuck you?_
> 
> _Are you blushing? I can imagine it, that dazed look in your eyes, the flush in your skin and I won't stop Edmund. I'm whispering in your ear, all the things I'd like to do to you, how I'd like to hold you down, bend you over and sink into you. Can you hear me?_
> 
> _My mouth is on yours, Edmund, and I'm taking everything I want from you. And you look so beautiful, your body straining against mine, your soft moans in my ears._
> 
> _I love you._

Edmund gasped, his cheeks burning and the hardness between his legs aching. He had not expected the next page to be like this, and Caspian's words had taken him unawares, setting a fire in his veins and waking a need that he'd suppressed for a very long time.

And now Edmund could not get the images out of his mind, the memories were clear and he wanted to lose himself in them, just as Caspian had. Quickly he folded the parchment and placed it on the night table and turned out the lamp. Then he sank into the pillows and let his hand slip down his body.

Edmund closed his eyes and let the memory flow.

* * *

_They were in the cabin. They had eaten a late supper there and when the meal was over, Edmund had cleared the table, and then Caspian had suddenly gripped his arm and pulled him onto his lap._

_It was strange to be held on Caspian's lap and Edmund wasn't sure how he felt about it. One of Caspian's hands was gripping his waist and the other was clamped between Edmund's legs, a heavy pressure against his aching groin. He'd pulled Edmund's head back against his shoulder and his mouth was hot on Edmund's, but in between the deep kisses he would whisper in Edmund's ear._

" _I want you and I'm going to have you. But how shall I do it, hmmm? Maybe I'll just tie you up this time. Or maybe I could just bend you over this table, move your breeches out of the way, and take you, use you and get my pleasure, hard and fast."_

_A jolt went through Edmund as he imagined it. He couldn't suppress his moan and he knew from Caspian's low laugh that he'd heard it._

" _Ah, I think you'd like that, wouldn't you?"_

_Edmund couldn't answer but he didn't need to. With one swift movement Caspian had pushed him forward. Edmund's cheek rested against the wooden surface of the table and he could feel Caspian pressing up behind him. Something dark twisted in Edmund's stomach as Caspian pulled down Edmund's breeches, exposing him to the cool air._

" _Spread wider," Caspian said, and Edmund obeyed as far as he could with the breeches still around his thighs, and shivered._

_Then there was the blunt, forceful pressure of Caspian's oiled fingers, two of them Edmund thought, but the burn of it made Edmund's stomach twist again and he pushed back against them. Caspian's hand suddenly gripped his hip, holding him still._

" _Don't move. This isn't for your pleasure," Caspian said, his voice rough. "It's for mine."_

_Edmund trembled and pressed his cheek harder against the wood, and then suddenly Caspian was pushing into him, all the way, until he could feel the end of Caspian's tunic brushing against his back._

_Caspian was still, as Edmund gasped, but before he'd barely managed to get his breath back, Caspian made his first thrust, deep and hard._

_Edmund groaned, a desperate sound in the silence of the room and Caspian laughed again, and then after that there was only the sound of gasping breath, slick, sliding skin and the occasional rasp of the table against the floor as the force of Caspian's thrusts made it move._

_Edmund felt almost overwhelmed. The edge of the table pressed into his thighs and he knew there would probably be bruises there, but he didn't care. It was all part of it. The tight clasp of Caspian's hand on his hip, the pressure of his other hand pushing on Edmund's back, holding him down, the scrape of the wooden table surface against his cheek, Caspian's thighs pressing against the back of Edmund's legs. But most of all there was the full, hot slide of Caspian inside him, turning him inside out and making his legs tremble._

" _Caspian," he finally managed to whisper._

" _See to your own release," Caspian said, his voice thick with a tension that Edmund now knew was lust. "I won't do it for you."_

_Edmund closed his eyes, momentarily lost in the sudden flare of excitement that rippled through his body. He wondered if he would even need to touch himself but he could tell that Caspian was close, and so he forced a hand in between the table and his body, knuckles scraping painfully along the wood._

_One touch was all it took. Edmund was gone and with a final hard thrust that pushed the table further across the floor, Edmund knew that Caspian had followed him._

" _Caspian," he whispered as the trembling aftershocks continued and suddenly Caspian had pulled him up, his mouth finding Edmund's in a harsh kiss._

* * *

Edmund's hand sped up, his release coming with a touch of regret as the memory dimmed.

"Caspian," he whispered, and the tears slipped from his eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

**4th Meeting of the Seven Friends of Narnia**

* * *

Edmund tossed his small suitcase into the boot of Peter's car, slammed the lid and then climbed into the passenger seat. He glanced at Peter, giving him a small smile, but neither of them spoke as Peter put the car into gear and pulled out onto the road.

Edmund was not in the mood for this. Normally a weekend spent at Aunt Polly's would have been something to look forward to, but waiting for him there was the parchment from Caspian that he'd deliberately left behind after the last meeting. It had seemed like a good plan to make a promise to himself that whenever there was a meeting he would read more of the parchment. He had thought it appropriate somehow, as if the fact that they were all there to talk about Narnia made it easier to read about it, and it was also a way to make sure that he didn't avoid it.

But of course the problem with that was that now that he was on his way to another meeting, he _couldn't_ avoid it. And he wasn't sure he was ready for more - for every time he read the parchment, it unsettled him, and disturbed him, and every time it seemed to take him longer to regain his composure.

Eventually he sighed and forcing his gloomy thoughts to the back of his mind, he glanced at his silent brother. He hadn't seen Peter, except for once, briefly, since the last meeting a few weeks ago, and he eyed him curiously, wondering if he was still affected by what had happened with Eustace. But Peter, as ever, was almost impossible to read. He was still a master at hiding his feelings and Edmund found himself suddenly wanting to break that reserve and see Peter as open as he'd been after he had driven Eustace back to school the last time they'd had a meeting.

"I'm glad that Eustace is well enough to join us, aren't you?" he asked, trying to make it sound as offhand as he could, but when the car swerved slightly and Peter gave him a shocked look, Edmund found himself feeling guiltily flustered.

"What do you mean 'well enough'?" Peter asked, and Edmund gaped.

"You mean you don't know?"

Peter glanced at him again and then pulled off onto the grassy verge of the country road they were now driving along, and the sudden silence seemed deafening to Edmund.

"Tell me," Peter said simply.

"I'm sorry Peter, I thought you would know," Edmund said, earnestly. "Otherwise I would have told you about it when I heard from Lucy." Peter sighed impatiently and Edmund quickly continued. "Well, he caught that cold that Jill had, but then it turned into influenza. He must have had it fairly bad because his parents wanted to take him home, but the Doctor said he should stay in the infirmary at the school. He was there for almost a month, but he's all right now. I've even had a letter from him – he said he still gets beastly tired but otherwise he's fine."

"And none of you thought to tell me?" Peter asked in a calm voice, but Edmund could see the anger in his eyes.

"Look, I said I would have if I'd realised that Lucy hadn't," Edmund said, holding out a hand. "I couldn't go to visit him so she wrote to me after she went… and I just assumed that she wrote to you too."

Peter frowned. "She did write to me but she didn't mention anything about Eustace."

Edmund hummed thoughtfully, whilst they stared at each other, and then he gingerly cleared his throat.

"Perhaps," he said, "um… perhaps he asked her not to."

Peter's frown deepened and then he looked away.

"Damn," Edmund heard him mutter, and then he looked back at Edmund.

"Would she do something like that for him?" he asked.

Edmund nodded. "They've become rather close, you know, and she might have guessed how he felt without him having to tell her. She'd do it for him, and face the consequences from you. In fact, _she'll_ probably lecture _you_ about it. You know what she's like."

He smiled, trying to ease the tension, and after a moment Peter returned the smile. Then he started the car again and pulled back out onto the road.

Edmund watched him carefully for a moment, his mind working quickly. He could see that Peter still looked unsettled and he wondered why the whole thing had affected him so much if he was as determined to keep out of a relationship with Eustace as he said he was. In the end, Edmund decided to risk asking about it.

"Did you ever write to him or anything?" he asked. "I mean to explain things. You said he just ran off last time."

It was such a long time before Peter answered that Edmund began to think that he wasn't going to reply, but finally Peter took a deep breath and spoke.

"No, I didn't," he said. "I thought it would be best to leave it alone. That might have been a mistake."

"Well, does it really matter?" Edmund pressed. "After all, this is what you wanted, isn't it?"

"Of course, it matters, Ed," Peter said, the frustration clearly evident in his voice. "I never wanted to hurt him."

"Well, that was unavoidable Peter, and you know it," Edmund answered, meeting Peter's annoyed glance squarely. "Look at it from his point of view. _You're_ the one who kissed _him_ and then you told him that it couldn't happen again. So, if he let Lucy tell you he was ill, what would it have accomplished? If you'd gone to see him, you both probably would have ended up saying things you'd regret. If you hadn't gone to see him, he would have thought that you didn't care enough to bother. Either way, he gets hurt. Of course," he reflected, "he might have thought that I would tell you about it anyway."

"Well, thank you _so_ much, for making the situation _so_ clear, Edmund," Peter said, rather sarcastically, and Edmund couldn't blame him really. "I feel _so_ much better now."

"I just want to know why you're _so_ upset about this," Edmund muttered.

"Because I haven't been able to stop thinking about him for weeks, you idiot," Peter shouted, and Edmund jumped in his seat. "Because I was already anxious about seeing him this weekend and now this has happened," he continued in a quieter voice. "And because I _know_ I've hurt him and I hate that."

Edmund swallowed hard against a sudden surge of emotion and took a deep breath.

"Tell him," he urged. He wasn't sure why it had become so important to him to try and mend things between Peter and Eustace, but after the barely disguised pain he'd just heard in Peter's voice, he knew he would do whatever he could.

"Maybe," Peter said with a note of finality in his voice that Edmund could not ignore, and they fell into silence.

* * *

When they pulled into the long drive of Experiment House, Eustace and Jill were already walking towards them, both carrying suitcases.

Edmund could sense the tension rising in Peter but the sight of Eustace distracted him, for it was clear that he was still recovering from a severe illness. He looked thinner than he had before and he was very pale, and as he drew closer the dark circles under his eyes became obvious.

Suddenly Peter was moving, and before Edmund could even think to say anything, he was out of the car. He watched as Peter took the suitcases from Jill and Eustace, and he smiled absently when Jill got into the back seat, for all of his attention was on the frozen look on Eustace's face.

He saw Peter nod towards the back of the car, and finally Eustace moved, opening the boot for Peter. Edmund, with a brief flare of guilt, quickly adjusted the mirror so that when the boot was slammed shut, he could see the two standing together at the back of the car.

Peter was holding Eustace's arm, standing close and talking quietly, and he also saw when Eustace shook his head. He could see that they were both trying to stay calm, but at the same time Edmund's anxiety grew as their voices began to rise.

"This is what you wanted," he finally heard Eustace say clearly. "You said it couldn't happen again so I don't understand why you-"

"I don't want you to think that I don't care about you," Peter said, just as loudly. "If I'd known you were ill-"

"What difference does it make?" Eustace interrupted, anger in his voice. "I knew this weekend was a stupid idea. Give me my case and I'll go back to school."

"What on earth is going on?" Jill asked, twisting around her seat to look out of the back window, and Edmund got out of the car.

"Hello Eustace," he said, ignoring Peter's glare. "Good to see you, glad you're better." Finally he met Peter's eyes. "Jill is getting restless," he warned. "Shall we get going?"

Peter glanced at the rear window, saw Jill's curious face, and shot Edmund a grateful look.

"Yes, we should," he said. "Hop in the car, Eustace."

Edmund winced at the furious look that crossed Eustace's face but a moment later it was gone and he heard his soft sigh.

"Fine," he said wearily, and joined Jill in the back seat.

"What were you thinking, Peter?" Edmund asked quietly. "Couldn't you have waited for a better moment? This isn't like you at all."

Peter gave him a rueful smile. "I don't seem to be thinking very clearly around him, at all," he said. "And seeing him like this, so frail, it made me lose my head. I actually came close to kissing him again."

"I think the High King Peter has finally fallen hard," Edmund said, raising an eyebrow at Peter's embarrassed flush. "But you have to deal with this properly now, Peter. It's not fair to Eustace, particularly when he's still not completely well."

"I know," Peter said. "But the fact remains, Edmund, that we can't really be together here. It's still against the law."

"I have an idea about that," Edmund said, and he smiled at Peter as they walked to the front of the car. "Why do I suddenly feel like the older brother?"

"Hmmm, don't get used to it," Peter said. "It won't last long."

They got into the car and Peter gave Edmund a wry look when he had to readjust the mirror, and Edmund smiled sheepishly, because, no, it hadn't lasted long at all.

* * *

The half hour drive was made in silence and when they pulled up at the front of Aunt Polly's house, Eustace instantly left the car. A moment later he had disappeared inside and as Edmund helped Jill with her suitcase he met her confused and curious look with a bland smile and a shrug.

Just as they reached the doorway, Lucy appeared and she sent Jill inside with a quick kiss on her cheek. Then she took Edmund's arm and marched him back down the stairs to where Peter was getting the rest of the suitcases out of the boot.

"Eustace seems out of sorts," she said, her voice deceptively cheerful as she glanced between the two of them. "Care to tell me why?"

Edmund answered her with another shrug, but Peter met her look squarely.

"Forget it, Lu," he said, flatly. "It's not going to work. You didn't tell me Eustace had been ill, and you don't get to lecture me now. Stay out of it."

The look she gave Edmund was a little panicked for Peter had used a tone of voice he rarely directed at them and in it was the echo of the battlefields of Narnia's north.

"Peter, he asked me not to-" she began, but she was silenced by the slamming of the boot.

"I'm aware of that, Queen Lucy," he said. "But Eustace is a member of our Narnian court, even if we aren't in Narnia. Don't you _ever_ do that to me again."

Lucy was speechless as Peter picked up the suitcases and went into the house, and Edmund would normally have enjoyed that sight but instead he felt rather sorry for her. Peter probably had no idea how brutal the force of his disapproval could be but Edmund suspected that he probably wouldn't soften it if he did know – it had been one of his strengths as a general. A few quiet words from Peter in _that_ tone of voice could achieve more than all the shouting force of someone else.

"Well, that's hardly fair," Lucy finally said, but there was no heat in her voice. "After all, you didn't tell him either."

"Yes, but that was accidental," Edmund pointed out. " _Your_ omission was deliberate."

Lucy pouted for a moment, and then sighed. "True," she said. "And I'm sorry for it now. But _what_ is going on with the two of them anyway?"

Edmund raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You mean you haven't realised?"

"Well, I know that Eustace has a thing for Peter," she said, thoughtfully. "Oh, you mean that Peter… _oh_."

"Yes," Edmund said. "Look, would you take some advice from me, Lu?"

Lucy nodded. "Always," she said, simply and Edmund smiled at her fondly.

"Don't get into the middle of this one, Lucy," he said. "I know that Eustace sort of involved you, and he probably shouldn't have done that, but try to keep out of it now. I don't mean to upset you, but there's things going on here that you can't understand. It's not as easy as it was in Narnia and it's not a game. Peter will skin you alive if you mess with this."

"I'd certainly got _that_ impression very clearly," she said dryly, but her eyes were serious and thoughtful. After a moment she nodded. "All right, Ed," she continued. "I'll take your advice, particularly as I have a feeling that you are the one to help them sort this out. I trust you."

As impulsive as ever she hugged him tightly and Edmund planted a kiss on her forehead.

"You know he's forgiven you already, don't you," he said. "You've got all of us wrapped around your fingers."

Lucy laughed and Edmund smiled as he watched her thoughtfully. "You know," he said, "there is one thing you could do to help though." She looked at him curiously and he quickly continued. "You could talk to Jill. Perhaps explain to her about how relationships can be in Narnia. She's going to notice something eventually and it would be better if she was prepared. We don't even know how she would react to something like this."

Lucy nodded, her eyes serious. "You're right," she said. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it."

Edmund squeezed her hand gratefully and they went inside.

* * *

Half an hour later, as he glanced around the tea table, Edmund rather regretted entering the house, for the atmosphere could only be described as tense. And this seemed to be the pattern for their meetings these days, he reflected as he glanced at Eustace's tired face.

Aunt Polly had taken one look at Eustace and immediately settled him into the most comfortable chair nearest the fire, and Edmund had spotted her putting brandy into Eustace's tea. Eustace had tensed and flushed slightly when Peter had taken the seat beside him, but as the brandy had taken effect he'd slowly relaxed.

The same could not be said for Peter. Edmund had never seen his brother so tightly controlled and it was rather unnerving. Thankfully, Lucy seemed to have taken it upon herself to distract Jill, and Aunt Polly was solely focused on making sure that everyone had plenty to eat, for there would only be a light supper that evening.

Finally no one could possibly eat anything more and they all settled back in their chairs with steaming cups of tea in front of them.

"Only three weeks till Christmas," Aunt Polly said, smiling around the table. "What are your plans?"

"These two are coming home," Lucy said, nodding at Edmund and Peter. "We'd hoped that Susan would be back from America to join us, but she's staying longer."

"We're going to Switzerland," Jill said eagerly. "I can't wait."

"Eustace?" Aunt Polly asked, after a moment of silence, and Eustace looked up and frowned.

"Harold and Alberta don't believe in Christmas," he said. "They're going to some sort of symposium on nerves or something in London. I'm not interested in that at all so I'm going to stay at school."

Aunt Polly looked horrified and she glanced at the Professor, who nodded.

"Absolutely not," she said. "I will write to your parents, and you will come here. You'll get plenty of rest and I'll soon fatten you up again. You're skin and bone."

Eustace laughed, a sight that Edmund was relieved to see.

"You make me sound like the Christmas goose," he said to Aunt Polly. "But thank you. I think that would be nice."

"Then it's settled," Aunt Polly replied. Her eyes flitted around the table and landed on Peter. "And if anyone else wants to pop in and visit after Christmas they'd be most welcome."

Peter smiled politely, but beside him Eustace shifted restlessly in his chair and then stood somewhat abruptly.

"If you don't mind, I think I'll go upstairs and rest for a while," he said, and after Aunt Polly had smiled and nodded, he quickly left the room.

Edmund waited for a few minutes and then he followed him, fully aware of Peter's eyes trailing him out of the room.

* * *

He knocked on Eustace's door.

"Who is it?" Eustace asked after a moment and Edmund could hear the wariness in his voice.

"Edmund."

"Oh… come in."

Eustace was sitting up against the pillows on his bed and Edmund crossed the room and sat in a chair nearby.

"I wanted to see how you are," he said. "I'm sorry I couldn't come to see you at school."

"Don't worry about that," Eustace said immediately. "And I'm fine, just tired."

"For what it's worth," Edmund said, deciding to get right to the point, "if Peter had known you were ill he would have visited you."

Eustace frowned and then sighed. "I don't want to talk about Peter. Or to him either," he said.

"You may not be able to avoid it," Edmund said with a smile. "And don't you think it would be better if you did talk to him?"

"I don't see the point," Eustace said, flatly. "He was the one who…" he faltered for a moment, his voice wavering, "He rejected me, Edmund, just like I was afraid he would, and I don't want any false sympathy from him just because I've been ill." He took a deep breath. "You know, if I wasn't so damned tired, I'd walk back to school. I should never have come here."

"Eustace-" Edmund began, but Eustace flung up a hand.

"Don't Edmund," he said. "Look, it doesn't matter anyway. This is England, not Narnia. It would never have worked. Please leave me alone, I want to rest."

Edmund nodded, as Eustace rolled over and pulled the pillow over his head, and he got up and quietly left the room.

* * *

Outside he found Peter, standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall.

"Well?" he said shortly.

"As you'd expect," Edmund said, bluntly. "He feels rejected. You know, I think he was more afraid of that than anything else, whatever you thought at the time. But now he seems to definitely agree with you that it would never work outside of Narnia."

For a moment Peter only looked thoughtful, and then he frowned at Edmund.

"You said before that you had an idea. What was it?"

"Well, what if there was actually a bit of Narnia here, in England?"

Edmund watched Peter's eyes widen as the idea sank in. "An Embassy."

"Yes," said Edmund, simply, for as much as he wanted to launch into a long explanation, and talk Peter around to the idea, he knew that Peter had to make the decision himself.

"It still wouldn't be legal," Peter said, "not without the acknowledgement of England's government. But it was a nice idea."

Edmund smiled. "You know, you're forgetting that Aunt Polly is the local MP," he said, "and she'd be mightily offended if she knew that. All that hardship as a Suffragette and then becoming England's first female MP, and you just forget all about it. Tut, tut, King Peter."

Peter laughed but he also looked thoughtful again, and this time Edmund decided to press his advantage.

"I know it's not perfect," he said. "And it's a bit of a trick, but we've done that before to get our own way. But it means that you can be together for the moment and you only ever see each other here anyway so nothing really changes. But we have the right to an Embassy here, and if Aunt Polly acknowledges it, then maybe Eustace will feel safe about it, and you won't feel like you're violating some stupid, unfair law," he smiled as Peter frowned. "I'm sorry," he continued. "But you know how I feel."

"It's still a risk," Peter said, and Edmund simply raised an eyebrow at him.

"Do you want me to formally petition Aunt Polly?" he asked.

Peter took a deep breath and then nodded.

"Yes," he said. "I'll talk to Eustace."

Edmund grinned, but Peter did not see it for he had already opened the door to Eustace's room and walked inside.

* * *

Edmund found Aunt Polly in the library, sitting by the fire, and when she instantly looked up, he almost felt as if she had been waiting for him.

He paused on the threshold unsure of how to proceed, for he suddenly realised that he had not a clue of how she might react to his request, and the reasons behind it. He knew that she was kind-hearted and that she considered herself partly Narnian, but she had lived all of her life in England.

They stared at each other for a moment and then Aunt Polly smiled.

"Close the door, Edmund," she said, "and come and sit down and tell me about whatever it is that is bothering you."

Edmund took the seat opposite her and leaned forward slightly.

"Ma'am," he said, "I must ask you a question first."

"Is this about Peter and Eustace?" she responded, with another smile. "Have they finally come to their senses?"

Edmund couldn't stop his small gasp of surprise and Aunt Polly laughed.

"Do you think I'm blind?" she asked, but before Edmund could answer she continued. "So serious, you young ones. When you get to my age you'll realise that life is too short to delay happiness. You have to take it when you can. But then, you know what I'm talking about, don't you Edmund? For you learnt that with King Caspian and that is why you are so determined for Peter and Eustace to have their chance, is it not?"

Edmund was still speechless and he could only nod dumbly. Not only had she floored him with her knowledge of his relationship with Caspian but she had seen something inside him that he had barely realised; that his own loss fuelled his need to see his brother and cousin have what they wanted.

Finally he pulled himself together and took a deep breath.

"My Lady," he said, "as the representative of my brother Peter the High King and on behalf of the Kingdom of Narnia, I hereby request that you, as a representative of your government, do hear my petition for the right and permission to form an Embassy of Narnia in these lands."

She raised an eyebrow and then nodded.

"The petition is heard and granted," she said, and then she winked. "I'll draw up something on my side, and you draw up something for Narnia and tomorrow we'll sign it. May as well make it as official as we can."

"I thank you, My Lady," said Edmund, rising to his feet and heading for the door.

"Oh, and Edmund," she said, and Edmund paused and looked back at her, "well done."

* * *

Edmund returned to Eustace's room, but before he could knock on the door he heard the raised voices within. He could not hear what was said but he could clearly hear the anger and he sighed. His side of things had gone well, but it seemed that Peter's side was, so far, less successful.

After supper, which neither Peter nor Eustace came down for, Edmund went to his room and began to write the first Narnian proclamation that he had written for many years. It took a few tries before he was used to the formal language again but eventually he put aside his pen with a sigh.

Then he opened a drawer in the desk and gazed down at the box in which he had placed Caspian's parchment, the last time they'd all been at Aunt Polly's.

A few minutes later he opened it.

> _It is over a year since I've written to you like this, Edmund._
> 
> _At first I didn't write, and indeed I tried to not even think of you, because it was too painful. I couldn't go on like that, Edmund, it was as an illness for me and it was not right for Narnia. And when we got back to Narnia, there was just so much to do after almost a year's absence. Being a King, thankfully kept me busy, and I'm sure that you guessed that it would be so._
> 
> _And then there was my Queen._
> 
> _I do not imagine that these words surprise you for I'm sure it was always in your mind that Ramandu's daughter would become my Queen, and you were not wrong. We started as friends. She was a soothing balm to the wound I carried in my heart, but I cannot lie to you, she eventually became more than a simple distraction from my pain._
> 
> _And, in the end, I could not betray you, Edmund. You made a choice, believing that it was the right choice for Narnia, and I love you too much, Edmund, to render that choice worthless. So, a week ago, Ramandu's daughter and I were wed._
> 
> _And, yes, while I bear a great love for my Queen, I still love you Edmund. She is my friend, my companion, partner and work-mate. But you are still my passion, I cannot forget you, and she understands this._

Edmund quickly refolded the parchment, unable to read more and fighting against the tightness in his throat and the stinging in his eyes. He blinked rapidly, wondering at his reaction for surely this was what he should have wanted to hear. He'd known that Caspian had married but reading of the success of his plan in Caspian's own handwriting only seemed to make his heart ache.

Quickly he rose to his feet and fled the room.

* * *

Peter's room was empty and so Edmund found himself standing outside Eustace's room straining to hear any sound inside. All was silence within, so eventually he tapped gently on the door.

"Come in," said a quiet voice that Edmund recognised as Peter's and he sighed with relief as he opened the door.

Peter was propped up on the bed with Eustace in his arms against his chest, his head resting on Peter's shoulder and tucked against his throat. As Edmund approached the bed, Peter held up a hand.

"Quietly," he said. "He's exhausted and he's finally sleeping."

Edmund sat down in the chair near the bed and looked at Peter.

"Aunt Polly agreed," he said quietly. "And everything is ready for signing tomorrow."

Peter nodded. "Good," he said.

"Did you sort things out?" Edmund asked.

"Eventually," Peter said with a tight smile, but he was looking closely at Edmund. "What's wrong?"

Edmund sighed and looked down at his clenched hands.

"I read more of the parchment," he whispered. "Peter, I…" He shook his head, unable to continue.

"Tell me, Edmund," Peter said.

"It's foolish," Edmund finally said. "I know I'm being foolish. I knew he married, Jill and Eustace told us that months ago, and it was what I expected when I left. But there it is, his life went on without me, and here I am, feeling like I'm nothing without him."

"Oh, Edmund," Peter gasped, holding out a hand towards Edmund.

"That _is_ foolish," said Eustace, and both of them looked startled, as they realised that Eustace had raised his head and was looking at Edmund with a serious expression. "You will never be _nothing_ , Edmund, King of Narnia."

"Eustace-"

"No, Edmund," Eustace interrupted. "You are the bravest person I know, and you will find your way. I know it and Caspian knew it too. That's why he gave me the message for you. He knew that you were strong enough and he wanted you to know that he believed it."

Edmund swallowed heavily at the sincerity in Eustace's eyes and he leaned forward and took his hand.

"Go back to sleep," he said, rising from his chair. "And thank you."

As he left the room he looked back over his shoulder. Peter's head was lowered over Eustace's upturned face and their lips were pressed together in a soft kiss. When Eustace's hand rose to tangle in Peter's hair, Edmund smiled and closed the door.

Then he went back to his room, locked the parchment in its box, and pushed it to the back of the drawer.


	5. Chapter 5

"Pevensie, isn't it? Edmund Pevensie?"

Edmund looked up from the book he was reading and squinted in the bright, late-winter sunlight at the figure that stood in front of him.

"Yes?" He said slowly and then, realising that it sounded like a question, he nodded his head. "I mean, yes I am."

The figure held out a hand and Edmund rose to his feet and took it. His gaze swept over a tall, muscular looking body and then met brown eyes that twinkled with good humour in a handsome face, and his own eyes widened when he recognised the person who stood before him.

"Delincourt," the person said. "Cedric Delincourt. I'm in your brother's year."

Edmund nodded. "Yes," he said. "I mean… I know who you are."

"Do you?" Cedric's smile widened, as he dropped down onto the garden seat that Edmund had been sitting on. He waved a hand and Edmund sat down beside him.

"Well, most people at Cambridge would, I imagine," Edmund said, dryly, but he couldn't keep the puzzled note out of his voice, for he couldn't for the life of him imagine why, after almost a year at Cambridge, the Captain of the Rowing Team was suddenly choosing to talk to him.

Cedric laughed, and Edmund smiled.

"I should congratulate you on your win last week," he said, and Cedric laughed again.

"Thank you," he said. "It was good preparation for the crew. We're going to cream Oxford at the Boat Race this year," he added confidently, and Edmund thought it might have sounded arrogant if there hadn't been a humorous light in Cedric's eyes.

"Oh, good," Edmund said, still a little bewildered by Cedric's sudden arrival.

"Actually, we're going to have a little celebration in my rooms tomorrow night," Cedric said, aiming a blinding smile in Edmund's direction that made him feel even more flustered. "And I thought you might like to come along."

Edmund blinked doubtfully. "Um… I'm not really part of the Boat Club set," he said without really thinking, and then his heart sank for it had been an idiotic thing to say when it was obvious that Cedric would know that.

Cedric didn't laugh or roll his eyes though. Instead he was gazing at Edmund and the humour in his eyes had been replaced with something more intent.

"But you are though, aren't you?" he said, in a low voice. "You're like _us_?"

Edmund had been at a loss until he heard the slight emphasis on the word 'us' and then his eyes had widened. Suddenly his heart was beating hard as he wondered how Cedric could possibly have guessed, when Edmund had kept himself so contained for over a year.

He was frozen, his eyes held by Cedric's gaze, as his mind worked franticly to decide what he should say next. It felt like he was at a crossroads. If he denied it he could stay in his safe, contained world, but if he acknowledged it then he had a feeling that his life would begin to slowly move forward along paths that he couldn't foresee and couldn't control.

His mind flitted from thoughts of Caspian, to Peter and Eustace, and the things that he, Edmund, had said to them, and finally he took a deep breath.

"Yes," he said. "I am."

The humour returned to Cedric's eyes and he settled back against the bench.

"Well then," he said. "Will you join us?"

Edmund couldn't help still feeling doubtful. He recognised that Cedric had taken a risk in approaching him so openly, and it had made Edmund take a step that he'd never thought he'd make, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to take another one.

"I'm not sure," he said, hesitantly.

"Look," Cedric said, laughter in his voice. "I promise you that you're not going to walk into some debauched, Grecian orgy, if that's what you're thinking."

And Edmund was horrified to discover that he hadn't lost the ability to blush, as his cheeks suddenly seemed to burn with a fiery heat.

"Although," Cedric added, eyeing Edmund with mischief in his eyes. "I could probably arrange that if you were interested."

His blush deepened but Edmund couldn't help laughing at Cedric's exaggerated wink.

"That's better," Cedric said, rising to his feet. "It's up to you," he continued, looking down at Edmund. "Think about it. I hope you decide to turn up."

Then he was walking away and Edmund watched him for a moment, before re-opening his book and settling down to continue reading, his decision already made.

He wasn't going to go.

* * *

He went.

He couldn't help feeling dumbfounded at himself as he hovered outside the door to Cedric Delincourt's rooms, listening to the sounds of talking and laughter within.

How had he ended up here when he'd been so sure that he wouldn't? He'd been safely ensconced in his own rooms and the next thing he knew, here he was, watching his own hand rise to lightly tap at the door.

It was a sickening moment, waiting for the door to open, and Edmund had already taken a step backwards, poised to flee, when it finally did.

"Edmund," Cedric said, sounding pleased and holding out a hand to pull Edmund inside. "Glad you made it."

Cedric's rooms were bright with lamplight and full of people, and Edmund looked around with curiosity as Cedric took his coat and scarf.

It all looked so… ordinary, and Edmund couldn't help laughing at himself a little. He really hadn't been expecting an orgy, but except for one couple that were leaning against the wall, mouths glued together, everyone else was just standing about, laughing and talking.

"Gin and tonic?" Cedric's voice murmured against his ear. "Or we have some champagne?"

"Gin, please," Edmund said, accepting a glass. He took a sip and only just managed not to cough. It was very strong.

He looked around the room again and then back at Cedric, who was standing beside him watching him with an amused expression.

"What?" Edmund asked.

"I'm just deciding whether to introduce you around or keep you all to myself," Cedric said, and Edmund felt the telltale flush rising in his cheeks. His heart beat a little harder as he recognised the warmth in Cedric's eyes, and almost instinctively he took a step back, suddenly wishing that he was back in his own rooms.

Cedric's brow rose slightly, he nodded thoughtfully, and then rested a hand gently on Edmund's arm.

"Come and meet some of the chaps," he said, ushering Edmund further into the room.

* * *

An hour later, Edmund, still nursing his first drink, found himself caught in the middle of a humorous argument between a tweedy, bespectacled classics student and a burly engineering student. The engineering student had confounded Edmund until he'd realised that he thought that Edmund was Peter and he had then spent a good five minutes explaining that he knew nothing about engineering whilst the tweedy student had laughed loudly and proclaimed that his hypothesis was correct, namely that all engineers were idiots.

"You'd never know they've been together for two years," Cedric whispered into Edmund's ear, suddenly appearing at his side, once Edmund had finally escaped.

"Really?" Edmund couldn't help looking back at the pair in amazement, and his eyes widened when he saw that they were now holding hands.

"Really," Cedric said. "They're like chalk and cheese, but it seems to work for them. They even share rooms and they haven't managed to kill each other yet."

He winked, and Edmund laughed, as he emptied his glass. He felt a little giddy, and he wasn't sure if it was from the strength of the drink, or the warmth that he could still see in Cedric's eyes.

He put the glass down on a small table and blinked a little as the world seemed to waver around him, and a hand steadied him.

"Here, have some water," Cedric said, and Edmund drank deeply and gratefully. "You did have dinner tonight, didn't you?"

Edmund looked at him blankly, feeling a little foolish as he shrugged slightly. "I might have forgotten," he admitted.

Cedric rolled his eyes. "You book-reading types," he said, laughing. "You'd forget to breathe if it wasn't automatic. Come on," and he pulled Edmund towards the door and handed him his coat. "Let's get something to eat. I'm rather hungry myself."

"But you can't just abandon your party," Edmund objected, and Cedric looked at him in amusement.

"They won't even notice I'm gone," he said, holding the door open.

* * *

They went to a small pub near Cedric's rooms and had steaks and ale. The dizziness that Edmund had felt dissipated, and was replaced by the pleasant buzz of good food, good beer and good conversation.

For although at first Edmund had felt awkward - as if his conversation skills were rusty after long disuse - he had eventually relaxed and found that Cedric was surprisingly easy to talk to. They covered quite a few topics, as they lingered over a second pint of ale, from rowing (of which Edmund knew nothing, but found himself willing to learn) to music and literature and finally to politics (which Cedric intended to pursue as a career).

"And dare I ask what you want to be when you grow up?" Cedric eventually asked with a teasing smile, and Edmund shrugged.

"I'm working for a degree in history," he said. "But I've been thinking about writing."

"Is that what you prefer?" Cedric asked.

"I think so," Edmund replied, rather shortly he knew, but he felt as if for a long time he'd ignored everything other than getting through his student work, and, whilst he knew he was being foolish, it still felt strange to consider a future in England.

But that wasn't it, he thought ruefully, trying to stifle the rising sting of tears in his eyes. England had nothing to do with it. It was a future without Caspian… and he really had to stop drinking and get back to his rooms.

He rose to his feet, pulling on his coat.

"I should go," he said, flinching a little at the raw, hoarseness in his voice and hoping that Cedric would not notice it.

"I'll walk with you," Cedric said quietly, also rising and following Edmund out onto the street.

For a moment Edmund wanted to tell him to go, but somehow, in the last few hours, Cedric had become a comforting presence and so Edmund merely tightened his scarf around his throat and began to walk.

At first they were both silent, and then Cedric began a running commentary on the ugliness of every curtain that could be seen in the lamp lit windows that they passed and by the time they reached Edmund's door, Edmund was laughing so hard that he could barely open it.

Finally he managed it, and as he turned on a nearby lamp, he realised that Cedric had followed him in and closed the door.

"I won't stay for long," Cedric said quickly. "I just wanted to ask if you're busy on Saturday. I've got rowing practice in the morning but I'm free for lunch if you'd like to join me."

Edmund had been looking at him blankly, wondering why his heart suddenly seemed to be fluttering so nervously, but eventually he slowly shook his head.

"I'm leaving with my brother tomorrow afternoon," he said. "We're spending the weekend at an Aunt's. It's a regular thing."

Cedric winced slightly, and when he spoke his voice sounded a little hurt. "Oh," he said. "An Aunt."

"It's not a made-up excuse," Edmund said quickly, reaching out to rest a hand on Cedric's arm. "Honestly."

Cedric had been staring at the hand on his arm, but finally he raised his head and smiled at Edmund, and the warmth that had been in his eyes earlier was there again. Edmund swallowed nervously as Cedric moved closer but he was frozen in place, his eyes locked with Cedric's even as he felt Cedric's arm slip around his waist. His heart drummed franticly in his chest as Cedric's head lowered towards his, but he couldn't pull away. Instead he closed his eyes and waited.

It was a soft brush at first but then Cedric's lips were against his, dry and still cool from the chill evening air. Almost automatically Edmund opened to the firm pressure and Cedric pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. A long moment passed where Edmund lost himself in the sensations, and it was surprisingly easy to do so, to enjoy the hot slide into desire as his tongue tangled with Cedric's. He gasped a little when Cedric pulled on his bottom lip, the drag of it making something twist in his stomach, and he reached up, tangling his fingers in Cedric's hair.

Then Cedric moaned, a soft sound, at once both familiar and strange. The strangeness made Edmund's eyes fly open as he quickly pulled away, and he shivered when he stared into Cedric's brown eyes, knowing that a part of him had expected to see blue - had desperately wanted to see blue.

They stared at each other, and then Edmund felt the heat of embarrassment rising in his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, I can't-" he began, but Cedric interrupted.

"No, _I'm_ sorry, he said. "It was too soon. Your hearts still aching, isn't it? What was it? The war, the parents, or prison? It's usually one of those," he added and Edmund thought he could hear a faint hint of bitterness in his voice.

And for the first time Edmund found he wanted to say it, for Cedric's arms were now a comforting, solid weight around his waist, and it made him feel that if anyone from this world would understand, it would be Cedric. He closed his eyes for a moment and then let his head drop onto Cedric's shoulder and the arms around him tightened.

"Distance," he finally said, softly. "And… time. We're worlds apart."

And it _was_ such a relief to say it, even if Cedric could not fully understand his literal meaning.

"Mine was the parents," Cedric said, softly. "He was expected to marry well and lead an exemplary life. It was a lot of pressure, too much pressure for both of us, so we let it go. Six months later he was married. Watching him go through that, it made me decide to go into politics. There has to be change."

"What about _your_ parents?" Edmund asked, his curiosity distracting him, for it was also a relief to hear another person's story.

Cedric smiled. "They're… unusual. Even if they noticed, I don't think they'd care, as long as I was happy. What about yours?"

It wasn't the first time that Edmund had thought about the answer to that question, and it was made harder by the fact that in the last couple of years he hadn't seen his parents that often. They spent most of their time with Susan in America now, for their father had eventually been offered a permanent lecturing position at Harvard. They had returned briefly at Christmas, but Edmund did not really know when he would see them again.

"I think probably the same," he finally said, and he was fairly certain it was the right answer. Even if he didn't see them that often he still knew that his family loved each other.

Edmund sighed softly and then lifted his head, pulling away gently from Cedric's arms and Cedric let him go.

"Thank you," he said, simply, and Cedric smiled.

"Will I see you when you get back?" he asked.

Edmund looked at him thoughtfully, and then nodded. "I think I'd like that," he said.

After Cedric had gone, Edmund stood for a long moment, staring at the litter of books and papers on his desk. There was a dull, guilty, ache rising in his chest and he really didn't want to examine why it was there.

He opened his wardrobe and rummaged through a box at the bottom of it, with increasing desperation, until he finally found the bottle of rum that he'd hidden in there months ago.

* * *

**5th Meeting of the Seven Friends of Narnia**

* * *

Edmund wrenched open the door to Peter's car and clambered inside, one hand clutching a full thermos of hot coffee. He settled into the passenger seat with a sigh, and rested his head back, wishing that the seat wasn't so upright.

"Hangover?"

Edmund cracked open an eye at Peter's crisp question and nodded his head as gently as possible. Peter started the car and drove out onto the road.

"Whiskey, brandy, or rum?"

"Rum," Edmund answered, lifting his head and gazing at the road winding before them. It was rather hypnotic, but also slightly sickening, and he opened the thermos and took a quick sip. "A bit of gin, but that was earlier. Oh, and some beer."

"Well, you look bloody awful," Peter said, glancing over at him. "You better hope you look better before Lucy sees you or she'll be lecturing you all night."

"You can distract her," Edmund muttered, and Peter laughed loudly, making Edmund wince.

They were silent for a while and Edmund felt his eyes growing heavy when Peter suddenly spoke again.

"Any particular reason for the drinking?" he asked, in a soft voice and Edmund opened his eyes with a sigh.

"I kissed someone," he finally said, and he heard a sound of surprise from Peter. "Or rather, I let him kiss me."

He turned his head, wondering if he would see a look of disapproval on Peter's face, but his brother seemed to be concentrating on the road.

"You know I don't feel the same way you do about the laws here," Edmund said, quietly, and Peter glanced at him with a smile.

"That's your choice, Ed," he said. "I only want you to be happy… but be careful, all right?" Edmund nodded, and Peter continued, "So, why the drinking?"

Edmund sighed, turning away to look out of the window so that Peter couldn't see the confusion in his face.

"I felt so guilty," he whispered.

He wasn't sure that Peter had heard him until he felt a soft touch on his knee.

"Do you really think Caspian would mind if-?" Peter began quietly, and it was like a flame went up inside of Edmund.

"I don't actually _know_ , Peter," he burst out, ignoring the startled expression on Peter's face. "Because I don't actually _know_ Caspian any more, do I? He's lived his life, an entire lifetime without me, a lifetime where he's changed, and so I don't _know_ anything about who he is any more. Or, I should say, who he _was_ , because he's bloody dead, isn't he?"

"Edmund," Peter said, in a low voice, as Edmund blinked away the sudden uprising of stinging tears in his eyes.

"Don't, Peter, just don't," he said. "I know I can't be like this anymore, I know that. But you have to let me find my own way of moving on."

For a long time Peter was silent, as Edmund stared out of the window blindly, but finally he spoke.

"All right, Ed," he said. "But if you need to talk, I'm here."

"I know," Edmund said, and closed his eyes.

* * *

He must have fallen asleep at some point because the next time he opened his eyes they were pulling into the drive at Experiment house, and Edmund sat up quickly, suddenly curious to see Eustace. He hadn't seen the other boy since before Christmas for when Peter had gone to Aunt Polly's just after the holiday, Edmund hadn't joined them, both reluctant to intrude on them, and reluctant to see them together.

Thankfully, Eustace seemed fully recovered. He was no longer pale and too thin and when Peter got out of the car, his smile was bright. Edmund watched as Eustace followed Peter to the back of the car and then turned to smile at Jill as she climbed into the back seat.

Jill's eyes were sparkling with amusement and Edmund had a feeling that Lucy had succeeded in the task he'd given her rather well.

"Adorable, aren't they?" Jill said, and Edmund couldn't help laughing.

"I wouldn't describe it exactly like that," he said. "And I wouldn't say that to Peter, either, if I was you."

Jill's eyes widened and she shook her head vigorously. "Oh, no, I wouldn't dare," she said. "To be honest, I'm still sort of nervous with Peter. I mean, after all, he's the…"

She faltered a little and Edmund winked at her.

"He's the High King," he said, and she nodded again. "I understand what you mean," he continued. "And you never even saw him in Narnia. But I'll tell you something, even in Narnia he could still be an idiot sometimes, and he really wouldn't want you to be uneasy with him – that's not his style."

Jill smiled at him gratefully but didn't say anything further as Peter and Eustace joined them in the car.

"Hello, Eustace," Edmund said, smiling at his cousin. "I must say you look a lot better than the last time I saw you."

Eustace returned the smile but then frowned slightly.

"You don't," he said, and as Peter began laughing, Edmund rolled his eyes.

"Blunt as ever," he said, dryly. "Thanks."

"Oh, sorry," Eustace said, looking a little sheepish.

"Apology accepted," Edmund said. "But please try not to say anything like that in front of Lucy."

"Well, at least you look better than you did this morning," Peter said, as he pulled out onto the road, and Edmund huffed and sank back into his seat and decided to ignore them.

* * *

Fortunately for Edmund, Lucy hadn't yet arrived at Aunt Polly's when they got there.

"She's coming in the morning," Aunt Polly said to them, her eyes drifting thoughtfully over Edmund. "You'll need to pick her up at the station, Peter."

"Where's the Professor?" Peter asked, and Edmund was grateful to him for deflecting Aunt Polly's attention.

"He's in the library," she said. "He's a little… unsettled."

"Oh, why?" Jill asked, and Aunt Polly frowned thoughtfully.

"He seems to think that something is going on in Narnia," she said, looking at Peter. "You should talk to him, Sire, I think he's been waiting for you."

Peter looked at her sharply and Edmund couldn't contain his own gasp of surprise for Aunt Polly had never addressed Peter in such a way before.

Peter held her eyes for a moment and then he nodded and left the room.

After a moment, the others began talking again, but Edmund was silent, gazing thoughtfully into his cooling cup of tea, until Aunt Polly took it out of his hand and replaced it with a fresh cup.

"Ginger tea," she said quietly into his ear. "Good for hangovers."

Edmund looked at her, his face flushing, and he smiled ruefully when she winked at him.

* * *

Edmund was on his way upstairs when he saw Peter coming out of the library and he paused and waited for his brother to join him.

"Everything all right?"

Peter nodded, but his eyes held a serious look, that made Edmund feel strangely nervous.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," Peter said, taking Edmund's arm and pulling him up the rest of the stairs and along the hallway. He stopped outside the door of Edmund's usual room and frowned.

"I mean, I'm not sure what's going on," Peter continued. "The Professor has a feeling that we might be needed in Narnia, but without any confirmation from Aslan, I'm not sure what we can do about it."

"We can't get back anyway," Edmund pointed out, with a shrug.

Peter gazed at him, an expression in his eyes that Edmund couldn't read, and then he leaned forward.

"There might be a way," he said quietly, and Edmund almost felt as if his heart had stopped.

"What?" he asked, breathlessly and he could feel the blood draining from his face.

"When the Professor and Aunt Polly told us the story of how they first got to Narnia, the Professor withheld a part of the story," Peter said. "He knows where the rings are, and it's possible that we could use them to get back to Narnia."

Edmund was speechless and he could only stare at Peter in shock. Peter seemed to understand his stunned amazement, because he smiled and then reached out and gripped Edmund's arm.

"I was just as astonished," he said. "But you have to understand, Edmund, I'm reluctant to use them without some sort of sign from Aslan. And if we do use them, it can only be for Jill and Eustace. I won't go against Aslan's wishes and try to use them myself, and you and Lucy can't either."

Something hot and painful shot through Edmund, jolting him out of his frozen state of amazement, and he pulled his arm from Peter's grasp.

"I wouldn't want to," he said, before he'd really even thought about it, and as he watched Peter's eyes widen with a mixture of surprise and compassion, he knew it was true.

"Look, we'll talk later," he said, and before Peter could say anything he opened the door to his room and went in.

He leaned against the closed door, strangely breathless, and with only one clear thought welling up out of the confusion in his mind.

He did not want to go back to Narnia.

* * *

Dinner was strangely quiet. The Professor was still distracted, Peter was thoughtful, and Jill and Eustace were both rather subdued, especially without Lucy there.

Edmund was lost in his own thoughts, still slightly bewildered at his own reaction to the news about the rings. Was it selfish of him, he wondered, to not want to go back to Narnia, particularly if she might need him? For, he knew, that even if Aslan approved it, Edmund would still be reluctant to go.

And the odd thing was, it felt like that out of any of them, Edmund was actually the one that was caught between two worlds. Peter was focused on completing his engineering degree and Edmund knew that he was already planning his future and looking into job prospects. Lucy was caught up in art school and had already turned a room in their parent's house (where she was the only one currently living) into a studio. Edmund had spent many hours in there at Christmas with Lucy, looking over her work, listening to her plans, and marvelling at her talent.

Yet, he knew, that if it was required of them, they would give it all up and go back to Narnia. They would take up the reins of their lives there, and not only that, they would integrate their lives from this world in a way that would enrich their experiences in Narnia. Whilst Edmund felt as if he was in limbo, unable to commit to anything in this world, and now unable to imagine going back to the other.

And how strange it was, he thought, that he was the one that had felt so strongly that the choice he'd made was the right one, and yet Caspian was the one who had been able to move on with his life.

He thought about the parchment, still tucked away in a drawer upstairs, and for the first time since he'd read of Caspian's marriage he wondered what the remaining pages held. Would they perhaps contain the answers that he could not find in this world?

There was only one way to find out, so immediately after dinner Edmund excused himself and went up to his room. He sat for a long time at the desk gazing at the box that held the parchment, and eventually he realised that the rest of the household had also retired.

Finally, he took a deep breath, opened the box and took out the next page.

> _So, Edmund, I am a father and Narnia has its heir. His name is Rilian and already, at only two weeks old, he seems a true Prince of Narnia. I think you would like him and I wish that you could see him._
> 
> _I wish it with all my heart, and I sometimes can't help wondering what my life would be like if you were here with me. And yet I look at my Queen and my son and I know that I must give as much of myself as I can to them. If you were here, would I really be able to do that, would Narnia be as stable and happy a kingdom as she now is, if I were torn in two?_
> 
> _I still yearn for you often in the dark of the night, for my Queen and I have long accepted that the gentle love we share will never flame into passion. To be blunt, she bears the cold flame of the stars in her blood, and I have ever preferred men, but yet, I could never betray her by taking a lover. Perhaps I was truly naïve (and selfish) to have believed that I could have ever had both a Queen and a lover… so perhaps you were right after all._
> 
> _Yet, as much as I miss our passion, I also long to talk to you, to laugh with you and see your smile. But still, I wonder, if you were here with me now, would not this also take me away from my Queen and son, for I know I would want to be by your side constantly. Perhaps we could have all been a family together, but how can one be sure?_
> 
> _Once I thought I knew the answers to these questions but now all I can say to you, honestly, is that Aslan has blessed me._
> 
> _Fare well, Edmund love, for I will not write to you again._

Edmund read over the last line again in numb confusion, and then looked at the box. Yes, he hadn't imagined it, there _was_ another page, Caspian _had_ written to him again.

And this time he would not wait to read it. This time he would face everything that Caspian had to tell him, head on, with no delays.

He reached out, but just as his fingers touched the parchment, there was a soft knock on his door and Edmund closed his eyes and sighed with frustration.


	6. Chapter 6

The soft knock came again and Edmund closed the parchment box and got to his feet to answer it.

It was Eustace, but not the Eustace who'd seemed subdued at dinner but still relaxed and happy. This was a boy with a tight face and raw pain in his eyes, and Edmund immediately reached out and took his arm and pulled him into the room.

"What's happened?"

Eustace shook his head, obviously unable to speak, and Edmund pushed him into a chair.

"Tell me," Edmund urged.

Eustace took a deep breath and then finally spoke.

"He doesn't want me," he said, and Edmund was speechless for a confused moment.

"Peter?" he asked, and Eustace nodded. "You're wrong," Edmund continued firmly. "I _know_ that Peter has feelings for you, Eustace."

"Maybe he does," Eustace said in a strangled voice. "But he doesn't _want_ me."

"What are you talking…?" Edmund began, and then he fell silent, heat rushing to his face. "Oh," he said. "Um."

He cleared his throat and then he couldn't stop himself from letting out a nervous laugh, and Eustace looked at him reproachfully.

"I'm sorry," Edmund said. "You have to understand Eustace, that it's really rather awkward for me to talk about my brother's sex life."

"Well, it feels bloody awkward for me too," Eustace said, dryly. "But there's no one else for me to go to."

And that was certainly true, Edmund thought reluctantly. He sat down on the end of his bed and watched Eustace for a moment and then he took a deep breath.

"So, you've never…" he faltered, and then took another deep breath. "I mean you haven't done… anything… together?"

Eustace had been staring at him, his cheeks slowly going pinker, and Edmund could feel his own face starting to heat in sympathy, because this was truly a conversation that he'd never expected to have with Eustace. Or anyone for that matter, and he really wished it wasn't happening. But he could still see the lost look in Eustace's eyes, the slump in his shoulders that spoke of confusion and defeat, and Edmund knew that he couldn't turn Eustace away, no matter how inadequate he felt. So he waited patiently, and with some trepidation, for Eustace to answer.

"Not really," Eustace finally said softly. "Well, just after Christmas there was one afternoon, we just sort of… um… he was on top of me and we sort of… rubbed together and-."

"I understand," Edmund interrupted quickly and they both sighed in relief.

"I was very tired after," Eustace continued. "I mean I still hadn't fully recovered from the flu and so I thought maybe that was why nothing more ever happened. But now I wonder if the only reason it happened at all was because I _had_ been ill and he was trying to give me something he thought I wanted."

Edmund frowned in confusion. "You did want it though, right?" he asked, unable to keep the worry out of his voice, because he knew exactly how horrified Peter would be if he thought that he might have pushed Eustace too far. "I mean… you enjoyed it?"

Eustace fidgeted restlessly with the hem of his sleeve and Edmund's heart sank, but then Eustace looked at him and smiled slightly.

"I didn't think I would," he said, quietly. "I mean, Harold and Alberta told me about that sort of thing when I was about thirteen and it just seemed messy and awful to me, especially when I figured out how boys would do it together. So, I have to admit I've been sort of frightened about it." He paused for a moment and wrinkled his nose. "And it _was_ messy afterwards."

Edmund stared at Eustace, sternly suppressing his sudden, appalling desire to laugh, until he could finally speak without it showing in his voice.

"So, are you still frightened?" he asked, and Eustace frowned thoughtfully.

"A bit," he admitted. "But… when it was happening… I really liked it. And I've thought about it since. So, tonight…" he broke off, looking away from Edmund, and biting his lip.

"Tonight?" Edmund prompted softly.

"I went to his room," Eustace said, still with his head turned away, but Edmund could plainly hear the tense embarrassment in his voice. "I wanted to… but he…"

He fell silent and Edmund almost held his breath, knowing that he had to let Eustace say what he had to say in his own time.

"Well, eventually he told me I should leave," Eustace finally said. "He didn't say it, but it was fairly obvious that he doesn't want me in that way."

Edmund couldn't speak for a moment, his anger at Peter freezing his tongue, for he could see that it had taken all the courage that Eustace possessed to have gone to Peter like that, and Peter had simply thrown it all back into his face. He knew that it must be a misunderstanding, that there had to be some sort of explanation, but at that moment all he could see was Eustace's utter humiliation and distress.

"I'll talk to him," he eventually said, and Eustace finally looked at him again, his eyes wide with horror.

"No," he said. "You can't… I don't want you to do that, Edmund."

"Eustace, I'm sure it's just-"

"No," Eustace interrupted him. "Please, Edmund, this whole thing is bad enough. I only came to you because I felt like I was going to burst if I didn't talk about it and I trust you."

"Then talk about it with Peter," Edmund urged. "Tomorrow, when you've both calmed down."

Eustace was shaking his head as Edmund spoke and Edmund had to admit that he wasn't surprised. He had a feeling that Eustace had taken a big step in going to Peter the way he had, and to have been rejected in that way wasn't going to be something he would easily recover from - and Edmund wondered if Peter had yet realised the huge mistake he'd just made.

"No," Eustace said. "I just want to forget that it ever happened. That way I might be able to actually look him in the face without dying of embarrassment. Maybe…" he faltered for a moment, and then shook his head. "I think that sort of thing is just not for me, anyway, so maybe it's a good thing that this has happened now."

"Eustace, no you shouldn't think-" Edmund began, but Eustace had risen to his feet and was already heading for the door.

"No, it's fine, Edmund," he interrupted. "Don't worry about it. I'm sorry I bothered you and thank you for listening but I'd really prefer it if we just forgot about the whole thing."

Then he gave Edmund a quick, pained smile and was gone, whilst Edmund stared at the door, feeling rather horrified but also not really that surprised that Eustace's confidence had obviously been affected so deeply.

"Peter, you absolute fool," he whispered to the empty room.

* * *

It was some time before Edmund shook himself out of his thoughts and his anger at Peter. He'd almost gone against Eustace's wishes and gone to Peter's room to hear his side of the story but in the end, he'd decided he just couldn't do that to Eustace when Eustace had so plainly not wanted him to. The distress in Eustace's eyes had run deep and Edmund had no idea what would happen next between Peter and Eustace but he couldn't help thinking that perhaps time would have a positive affect. He'd watch them in the morning and hope for the best.

So, in the end, he gathered up the box of parchment and settled on his bed, and as he read he forgot all about Peter and Eustace.

 

> _You must wonder that I write to you after so many years have passed. I wonder at it myself for I had decided long ago that I had to let you go, if I was to lead the life that we chose, fully and completely._
> 
> _For, in the end, Edmund it was my choice as well, I hope that somehow you know that. The long years with my Queen were full of joy and contentment, and not least because of our deep love for Narnia. In the end, you were right, Narnia had to come first._
> 
> _And yet now I must tell you that I have lost both my Queen and my son. My grief for my Queen is tempered by the knowledge that she has taken her place in the skies as she once, long ago, told me she would._
> 
> _As for my son, the fact that I do not know for certain that he is dead does not lessen my grief. Yes, there is hope but it has not made the year that has passed since I lost them both any easier._
> 
> _Have we failed, Edmund? All that we gave up for Narnia's sake, is that all for nought?_
> 
> _I must tell you, even in my grief, I cannot think it so. It will not be so, and I trust that Aslan will find a way. It is all I can do._
> 
> _But I have been so lonely, Edmund, and so I have finally taken a lover. I held back from it for many months, and it was not the thought of my lost Queen that held me, it was you. Would you see it as a betrayal? I do not know, but I did realise that for a long time I have avoided thinking about what your life has been without me. I have only thought of my life._
> 
> _My life has been full, Edmund, as it still is, even with the misfortune that has lately befallen me, and, perhaps because of that misfortune, I now find myself hoping that your life has been full as well._
> 
> _Knowing how time works in your world, I know that it is entirely possible that as I write this, it is only a week for you since you left me on the Dawn Treader. But one day as many years will have passed for you as they now have for me, and I wonder how those years will have changed you._
> 
> _I must be honest, I think back to the way we were, and it is hard to imagine another touching you in that way… I don't like it and I never have, but I know that this is selfish of me._
> 
> _As I write this, my lover lies sleeping in my bed, and his warmth and care comforts me as much in my grief and loneliness, as his body does. How can I not wish that you find the same comfort, when I still bear love for you?_
> 
> _And I do, Edmund, I do._
> 
> _Perhaps it is foolish of me to believe that one day you will read these words, but I must tell you this, Edmund._
> 
> _Please, live the life that we chose together fully, but… don't forget me, love._

* * *

It hurt.

* * *

Edmund wasn't sure how much time had passed when he finally rolled off the bed and went to the window. His limbs felt numb and heavy, it was a strain to move them, and it reminded him of how it sometimes felt after one had slept long, and deeply, without moving position. Except he knew that he had not been asleep for a moment.

He reached the window and rested his forehead against the cold glass. Outside it was still dark, but his window faced east and Edmund could see the faintest lightening of the sky and it felt as if the world was waiting for that moment when the sun's rim would rise above the horizon.

And it almost felt as if the hushed world was waiting for more than that, as if a crisis was coming that would change everything, and even the air around him seemed heavy with the expectation of it.

Then, suddenly, a flock of tiny brown birds flitted through the air, darting and weaving in front of Edmund's window, and he gasped when they disappeared into the trees, for even though he'd seen them clearly they hadn't seemed quite real. It had felt almost like an echo of something dim in his memory.

' _Look at the sun rising in the east, Aslan's in the east,'_ Lucy's voice whispered in his mind and Edmund closed his eyes tightly.

And then he made his choice.

* * *

A few moments later, Edmund opened his eyes, and went back to the bed. He gathered together all the pieces of parchment scattered over the quilt, folded them neatly, and went over to the fire.

It was only embers now, so Edmund added a little coal and fanned it, and once it caught he held the parchment against the tiny flame. A few moments later the pieces were burning quickly and Edmund dropped them into the fireplace.

Then he went to the bed, burrowed under the quilt and fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

"Edmund, wake up, you've slept most of the day away."

Edmund opened his eyes and Lucy's face came into view, grinning down at him, and Edmund smiled.

"Hello, Lu," he said, sitting up and yawning widely as he stretched out his legs.

"Did you sleep in your clothes?" Lucy asked, her voice full of disapproving amusement.

Edmund wrinkled his nose, because now that Lucy had drawn his attention to it, he realised that it wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world to sleep in one's clothing.

"I think I'll take a bath," he said, swinging his legs out of the bed, but he was stopped by Lucy's hand on his arm.

"Are you all right?" she asked, softly.

"Yes, I am," Edmund replied with a smile. "Why?"

"I'm not sure," Lucy said thoughtfully. "I was on the train early this morning and I just… I don't know… felt something. About you."

Edmund stared at her, his brow raised. She had always been intuitive and perceptive, sometimes in the most annoying way, but this seemed a little more than that. He remembered the way the Professor had been so unsettled the night before, the way he had told Peter that something important was happening in Narnia, that perhaps Narnia needed their help, and Edmund wondered if Aslan was closer to them in this world than they had all thought.

Lucy was looking at him expectantly though, so he gave her a reassuring smile.

"I had a… bad moment," he said, his smile fading into a slight grimace, because the pain was still there, but it was bearable now, muted by the decision he'd made. "But I'll be all right now."

"About Caspian?" Lucy asked, and Edmund realised, with a start, that it was the first time she had talked about Caspian with him since they'd returned from the Dawn Treader.

Edmund met her clear gaze and nodded. "Yes," he said softly. "You know that he sent me a message?"

"Yes, I did," Lucy said. "Eustace told me. He was worried about giving it to you, about how you would react."

"Hmmm," Edmund hummed thoughtfully. "Well, it has been difficult to read the message, that is certainly true. But I've finally finished it."

"And?" Lucy asked simply.

Edmund shrugged, still not entirely sure if he was ready to tell Lucy about everything he was thinking. The words in Caspian's final letter had been agonising to read, but since that moment at dawn, for the first time Edmund felt free of what had happened in Narnia. And now, as he remembered Cedric, he wondered if that freedom had been slowly growing inside him all the time, ever since he'd first received Caspian's message. The loss was still there, painful and heart wrenching, particularly when he thought of Caspian with someone else. But as Edmund thought about Cedric it felt like he was losing something and gaining something at the same time. Even with the simple desire he'd felt when they'd kissed, Edmund still couldn't think about being with Cedric the way that he'd been with Caspian, but he did think about the open friendship he could have with him, and for the first time, the potential for more in his life was there.

And, for the first time, he could accept the fact that he was never going to see Caspian again.

"I'm going to be all right," he finally answered Lucy, his voice firm, and she beamed at him.

* * *

That night at dinner, Edmund looked around the table and wondered if these Seven Friends of Narnia dinners were always going to be strange for, yet again, the atmosphere was fraught with tension.

Edmund hadn't seen Eustace since his conversation with him the night before, but he could tell that he was still deeply affected by what had happened and was also struggling to appear as if he wasn't. Peter was closed off, his face a mask of control and Edmund felt his anger returning whenever he looked at his brother. The Professor was still thoughtful, his mind obviously distracted, and Lucy was watching Eustace with puzzled concern in her eyes. Only Jill and Aunt Polly seemed relatively unaffected as they conversed quietly on one side of the table.

Edmund was still staring at Peter, trying to think of a way to crack that calm façade, when he heard the sound of shattering glass and then a little scream that sounded like it had come from Jill. He looked around curiously, and was startled to see that Jill and Eustace were both on their feet, their bodies full of tightly wound tension.

And then he followed their line of sight and his heart stuttered. For one very brief moment he almost thought it was Caspian standing by the window, for the first thing he noticed was the blond hair and then the Narnian clothing. But this figure was not tall enough to be Caspian, and was of a slighter build, and it suddenly burst into Edmund's mind that this was probably one of Caspian's descendants.

All of this went through his mind in a matter of seconds and he was still gaping at the wavering figure that appeared to be tied to something, when he heard Peter's voice.

"Speak, if you're not a phantom or a dream. You have a Narnian look about you and we are the seven friends of Narnia."

The figure strained forward, his eyes pleading and anxious, but when he opened his mouth as if speaking, they heard nothing.

Then Peter slowly rose to his feet, turning to face their strange visitor fully.

"Shadow or spirit or whatever you are," he said. "If you are from Narnia, I charge you in the name of Aslan, speak to me. I am Peter the High King."

Edmund saw the figure's eyes widen, as if stunned, and then he tried to speak again, but already he seemed to be growing fainter.

"Look! It's fading," Eustace said, but even as he finished speaking the vision had completely disappeared.

"He's gone," Edmund heard Lucy whisper, almost as if to herself.

Peter, who was still standing, turned to look silently at the Professor.

"Narnia has asked for our help, Sire," the Professor said, with an intent look, and Peter finally nodded.

"Yes," he said. "And we must answer."

* * *

"It would have to be raining," Edmund said, yawning and looking up at the grey, early morning sky resentfully.

It had been a long night. It hadn't taken them too long to decide what to do – Edmund and Peter would go to London and search for the rings, whilst Aunt Polly would arrange for Jill and Eustace to stay away from school for one more day so that they could all meet on the train to hand over the rings – but the rest of the night Edmund had spent half-dozing in Peter's car during the long drive to London. Now, here he was, dressed in a pair of Peter's too-large overalls, getting soaked in the misty rain, and floundering in the mud as they dug hole after hole, searching for the rings. It was all most unpleasant.

"Stop whinging and keep digging," Peter said in a tired voice and Edmund felt a little guilty for Peter had driven for hours to get them there.

He squelched over to a new spot in the large backyard they were in and started digging and after a few minutes his shovel hit something hard.

"Peter," Edmund called, his excitement rising.

Peter came over and they scrabbled in the mud for a moment, finally pulling out a weathered box, wrapped in mouldering oilcloth. They both held their breath as Peter slowly opened the box and then both released it in a heavy sigh of relief when they saw the yellow and green rings, neatly ordered in the box, and gleaming as if they had just been finely polished.

"Well, that's it then," Peter said, frowning as he looked around at the devastation they had wrought in a complete stranger's backyard. "Normally I'd say that we should fix all this but…" he trailed off and Edmund, not giving him any more time to think, took his arm and pulled him over to the fence they had climbed over earlier.

"Hopefully they'll just think it's some sort of giant mole infestation," he said, pushing Peter over the fence. "Do you think we have time for breakfast?"

* * *

"I feel much better," Edmund said, as he climbed into Peter's car after a quick but satisfying breakfast of coffee and eggs at a dingy café.

"I do too," Peter replied, starting the car and pulling out onto the road. "Now we just have to get to the station to meet the train they're all on and we'll be done."

Edmund watched his brother thoughtfully for a moment. He was no longer angry with Peter, for he could see that Peter wasn't his usual self, but he also wanted to know what was going on in Peter's mind.

"So, do you wish you could use the rings yourself? Do you wish you could go to Narnia with Eustace?"

Immediately Peter seemed to stiffen in his seat with wary tension and Edmund wondered if he would answer. A few moments passed, in which Edmund realised that he was probably dancing on the line of breaking his promise to Eustace, but he couldn't help it. Peter was still too composed and Edmund couldn't help remembering the pain he'd seen in Eustace's eyes the evening before, and wondering if Peter actually felt anything about that.

"I don't want to talk about Eustace," Peter said firmly.

"Fine," Edmund said shortly, his anger stirring. "But I have to say that I would never have encouraged you to be with him, if I'd known that you would hurt him like this."

Peter was silent for a moment and then he spoke, impatience heavy in his voice. "Look, Edmund, I'll talk to Eustace, and he'll get over it."

" _What the hell?_ " Edmund exclaimed. "This isn't so easily fixed Peter. Eustace is deeply hurt, I think more than you realise, and you sound so… callous. Do you actually care for him at all?"

"Of course I do," Peter snapped. "That's why I couldn't take advantage of him."

"You've really messed up here, Peter," Edmund said, no longer able to keep his anger hidden. "He went to you. It's not taking advantage when he wanted it as much as you do, and now you've rejected him _again_ and-"

"It _is_ taking advantage," Peter interrupted in a loud voice, "when I'm going to leave in a couple of months, Edmund."

"What?" Edmund gasped, staring at his brother blankly.

Peter returned his look for a moment, his eyes almost apologetic, and then he looked back to the road.

"I only found out last week," he said, quietly. "You know I finish my degree this year and I've been applying for positions for a while. Well, I also applied for a couple of things overseas – in France, in particular, there's a lot of rebuilding work and they desperately need engineers. I didn't really think I'd get the job I applied for but I did, Edmund, and I can't pass it up."

"I see," Edmund murmured.

"I am sorry this happened," Peter continued. "And I was trying to explain it to Eustace but everything got confused. I _will_ talk to him again, but you know that we have to deal with this Narnia problem first."

"Yes," Edmund agreed quietly. He wasn't sure why he was so taken aback by Peter's news, he had, after all, known that Peter was working towards a future in this world, and he, himself, had recently made the decision to do the same and accept that this world was where he had to live his life. But after losing Susan, this felt like another loss, as if they were all slowly moving away from each other, and from Narnia.

"I _am_ sorry about what has happened, Edmund," Peter said, after a moment of tense silence. "I shouldn't have gone into this with Eustace. It was against my better judgement."

"Are you saying that I pushed you into it?" Edmund asked, his heart sinking.

"No," Peter said quickly, looking at him with a shocked expression. "No, Edmund, this whole thing is my fault. I… I lost my head… and did something I shouldn't have done. It's nothing to do with you."

But even though he could hear the regret in Peter's voice, Edmund wasn't yet ready to give up.

"You say you lost your head," he said, looking at Peter curiously. "But, surely that's because you really want and care for Eustace. If we weren't here, if we were in Narnia, would you choose him, Peter? Would you be with him?"

He heard Peter's soft sigh, and saw the frown on his face.

"I'm not going to answer that question," he finally said, and then they both lapsed into silence.

* * *

It was still raining and rather cold when they finally reached the station with five minutes to spare, and Edmund shivered uncomfortably as they waited.

Peter was still silent and his face was grim and Edmund couldn't help feeling bad for him, his anger at Peter completely dissipated. Edmund knew what it felt like to make mistakes, to have regrets, and to lose something that you desperately wanted, so he wasn't going to make it any harder for Peter, or Eustace, now.

Finally he heard the whistle of the approaching train and he let out a sigh of relief, even as he felt Peter stiffen beside him.

"Something's wrong," Peter muttered, and Edmund looked up, his eyes widening.

"It's taking that bend far too quickly," he said, squinting through the dim, misty rain.

After that there was a flash of flaming light and a loud noise, and then everything went dark.

Then it felt like he was lying on his back, but instead of a wet, hard surface he seemed to be lying on dry, warm grass, and when Edmund opened his eyes all he could see was blue sky.

 

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Footnote: The two sentences that Peter addresses to the vision of King Tirian are direct quotes from The Last Battle by CS Lewis.


End file.
